the last cigarette of the pack,
thoroughly enjoyed,
smoked to the filter;
the last drag, intense and almost intolerable,
pulled with dedication;
or
maybe comfortably discarded during a brief pause,
a hairline opening between lips and words
as the only cue?
the filter drops.
...hits the ground,
bounces,
for a moment,
then,
stops.
{...as if the smoker knelt and placed it with care};
maybe next time it will be out a window.© 2008 joe blend. All rights reserved.
Mount Vernon hedge perfume, a favorite greeting but how long will the shrubs keep their voices? Old brick and fun house mirror glass, all of it weathered, but mature. I guess the bushes will be fine.
Its collective ass has been kicked by inherited or purchased neglect and its birthdays are well into triple digits but it’s still giving “meet-n-greets”. I’ve decided there’s no sense in worrying.
But, the “Sons of the...” and the “Daughters of the...”, even everyone in between, don’t realize death is inevitable. A wrinkled chair is no match for people putting their fingers on things they shouldn’t put their fingers on. A brittle portrait doesn’t stand a chance when camera flashes are allowed to cripple. A bio-print is more like a bio hazard to paint that’s 220 years young. Prosthetic parts and cloned pieces will help the mansion blow out the last few candles before the icing melts...“restoration”, if you don’t mind. But is that truly being a part of the “Friends of the American Revolution”?
I’d rather see Monticello stagger with a cane than run with bionics.© 2008 joe blend. All rights reserved.
where manmade ends and the trees begin,
overlapping green,
floating,
no obvious connection to the course brown
that protrudes from
ground and trunk;
staring reveals infinite nature and its accessories,
a safe haven,
a mature security blanket,
i'm not embarrassed to be wrapped up in this
because green is good;
we're cousins, organic, of the earth...
...but...
we kill them,
without hesitation,
while they help us live by donating oxygen
to our cause;
in this moment they're protecting me,
from traffic,
from buildings,
free therapy because i had the sense
to open my eyes and listen.
© 2008 joe blend. All rights reserved.
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