Big Wheels

so...in your dream...
there is a conference or gathering of some kind
involving various thinkers from all over
and one session in particular is one that you're attached to
to facilitate and oversee that all goes more or less well
and among the attendees is a friend who you admire
though you haven't seen for a long time
and things seem to be going well into the session
until the speaker starts saying all kinds of crazy and offensive things
this upsets you and you worry it upsets your friend
just then you see her wheeling her way out of the conference space
down a spiral staircase
escaping on a bicycle
you follow her on the only available wheels:  a sort of unicycle with an oval shaped wheel
you follow her up and down steep hills
marvelling at your ability to pedal power the oval wheeled unicycle
over hill, dale and snow covered roads
eventually you part ways and you make your way back to the conference centre
your unicycle has become a snowboard which you park in a wood panelled cabinet
there are tiny toasts of red wine as all agree that all is more or less well
a bit of restoration in an age of upheaval

late September

it's a day to watch the leaves fall
one by one
golden in air
down to ground
falling softly
without a sound

Your questions answered...

Dear Boho,
How is it that birds continue to sing, even on the gloomiest of days?
Yours,
MD

Dear MD,

It is a little known yet widely established fact that birds are made up of various receptive connecting points aligning them in cosmic ways invisible to the human eye.  For instance, a set of unseen strings radiate from within a bird's body to the tips of their wings.  On overcast days, birds have been known to flap their wings to stimulate their heart muscles which in turn inspire birdsong.  Intuitively, the birds seem to know that clouds and gloom are temporary occurrences...strings and songs defiant.

I hope this answers your question.

Love,
Boho

last boarding call...

all the meanies on the rocket ship
time to blast you on outta here
no hard feelings
just tidying up
while we build a gentler place

flight paths

an unwelcome backyard sound this morning:
'thud'...
collision of feathers with glass
flying into the reflected pane

on the patio
a small sparrow dazed and grounded
time for timing out
a blip on your radar
but this will not undo you
you will not be undone

there and then a little later

gone

airborne

sparrow wings away

bookends

i share a date with Martha
the last of the Passenger Pigeons
the day she checked out
i checked in
(albeit decades later)
i think of her sometimes
alone in her cage in the Cincinnati Zoo
the last of her kind
once there were billions
then there was one
then there were none
we are all passengers here on the big blue ball
and hope is the thing
the thing with wings
the thing with feathers

tabulations

greckles are falling from the sky in Boston
and the Blue Jays beat the Red Sox 3-2

extracurricular

seems that spam is a kind of canned processed meat product
and also where you'll find filtered messages
of a really suggestive kind
like...really really suggestive
spam
spam
spam
spam a little
spamalot

pointy nointy

the elves seem to have visited in the night
and were apparently very busy
stuffing my head full of cotton
cotton balls
cotton wool
cotton candy floss
any cotton they could get their elvish hands on
my head is so full of cotton that i need to be mindful going out in the rain
in case i soak up and expand
get too ahead of myself
but it looks like a sunny day so i should be alright
perched here on the curb
counting my blessings
and tabulating my thread count

Cumulative Clouds

when you find yourself congested

wheezing and stuffed with remnants of cotton fluff

find a new way to spin them

in your semi-vulnerable and soft focused state

invent a new language

a series of symbols

with which to get your point across

some nuanced gestures to let your respondent know

that 'yes'...'yes'...(despite signs to the contrary)...

all is well however momentarily uneasy and unwell

one might feel...'yes...yes...yes'...

one season is waning but another waits in the wings

and hope is the thing that tethers

nice work if you can get it...

post away time
means hanging at home
a little TLC on Labour Day
serious feline laptime
catching up on all things tabby business
a mouth that opens and closes muttering no-sound/sound
just means 'glad you're back both of you...
mine all mine'

Crooner Schooner

a dude on Duckworth today just before noon
was serenading some eastward bound folks
with a rousing rendition of 'I Did It My Way'
and I think Frank and Elvis would've approved and bought him a round or two
riding that Black Horse to a wee boothy
and a little liquid lunch

Stain PreTreat

• Tomato
• Dirt
• Grass
• Wine

The four categories of the clothes soiling apocalypse.

9/1

a little drizzle
a little fog
some sun and clouds again
new moon
solar eclipse
the little dog in the window
is nowhere to be seen
maybe on the lam with snail on York street
pods and pads
tethering
another trip around the sun