Accompanying music

Winter tea—
taste buds insist
there’s vanilla.

This black crow
always buys Safeway®
¿Why don’t you?

We’re waiting, Jacob…

Einige sagen das Ende ist nah…

– L’outil pour lavements de l’anima

Aire antiséptico,

quema al terreno todo el,

el,

pues, todo.

Todo sería bueno.

Autumn’s winter pale ne’er pales

rosy left ‘hind loneliness

abstract concrete chalky tales

footprint-stained sprained bony limbs.

Autumn’s summer golden blades

shining right through company

grassy seas of brighter days

squirrel away all somethings green.

Too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much

& not ‘nough.

Green-glowing leaves, tanned brown by angry suns

isn’t what I’m writing ’bout.

How scarlet peckers’ needle beats thy drum.

They can’t; they don’t exist. Neither dost “thou.”

¿& all those tardy sunset conflagrations?

are nothing but your wild imagination.

No, no, no…

I’ll tell you what it’s all ’bout,

I'll tell you what it's all 'bout...

October sugar o’ peanut butter cups

plucked off the vine ripe after ages o’ toil—

& buttery black oil…

A mushy lump o’ brown fruit bitter with too many months falls with an unheard squish