Poem drawn from the "fellows followed" list on my blog at 10:20 pm 10 April

I sense you understand me perfectly.

                       (Language drawn largely from
                         the "fellows followed" list
                         on my blog at 10:20 pm 10 April)

The traffic on First is careful tonight,

earnest, gray. Birds, pianos and the moon

our self-portrait. The sheriff rides in

to arrest the weather, fat snowball

competing with her favorite tumbleweed.

For the excellent career in roustaboutery,

broken bowls, winter blooms, acerb

whistles over interference.

It’s all interference,

pulsing handbrakes,

ridiculous.