Merc, retro

"...every silver bead that briefly
Lived apart from the whole
Before merging and returning

To the vessel..."

From "Mercury" by Phyllis Levin

Splintered green truck bed

"...A heavy sky that
holds away the ragged cold,
the sweetness of lights and signs and faded buildings..."

From "Where I Grew Up" by Robert Gregory

Green velvet crush

"The older she gets,
the more she awakes
with somebody's face strewn in her head
like petals which once made a flower. ..."

From "Crush" by Carol Ann Duffy

*****

Thanks to all you patient browsers, lurkers, un-common-taters who keep coming to visit despite the crush of schtuff that's making me seldom seen. I'll be posting more frequently after a while, but still in the thick of it.

Grille, deluxe

"...I made him look at the poem.
“There’s a lot of that going around,” he said..."

From "Mingus at the Showplace" by William Matthews

*****

And a bread-crumb (chametz!) in a trail left by Grilled Flowers Press.

Texas patch and Three Bad Jacks

Another rat rod, and through darkened glass you can see the faint shine of an embroidered lone star.

Cross-posted a small introductory chunk of my art history paper here for those who may be interested.

And whether interested or not, here's a little piece of the Afikomen.

Metal flake-out

"...you can run away from nothing but the details. ..."

From "You, Me, Happy, Sometimes" by William Waltz

The piercing gaze

I've been spending hours engaged in time-travel.
And this? Just a riveting gaze, between now and then.

(Extra! Lagniappe!)

Serape jalopy

"Innocent decision: to enjoy. ..."

From "Triple Feature" by Denise Levertov

*****

Stole away from schoolwork for a couple of hours and found some rusty goodness at the Lonestar Rod & Kustom Round-Up (all except one of what I caught was made in Texas.)

Cursive (Fleetline Study #3)

"...Against all
Solid testimony machines
Have feelings
Too..."



From "Radio" by Tom Clark

Fleetline Study #2

"... The Westside knew 'em,
And Selma, even Gilroy.
48 Fleetline, two-tone-
buenas garras..."

From "El Louie" by José Montoya