the leather tavern, down around the corner, next to the hardware store has nice Sunday afternoon crowd I know because as I drive by the door opens and the music rushes out and boxes my ears an establishment where greetings start with a shout, followed by the staccato pieces of bellowed words and then there’re the drunks, the ones that everyone clearly understands, holding court with a couple laughing heads a bar’s intentional volume, poor lighting and alcohol is aimed

I hear my mouth say maybe much more than it used to, with perhaps a more hopeful, thoughtful maybe to the listener both are pronounced with a hedge towards commitment – holiday party, wedding invite, day trip, visit to family all part of my new occasional life, preferring not to dress up, go out and publicly engage in most social situations apparently, I prefer to sit here stare out the window and let my pen live the life I used to

I chuckle at the characters I pass on the sidewalk to think each started as the boring pair of leaves every seed sprouts before adding the spines of cactus the sinews of trees the smirks and smiles of gardenias and petunias this collection and many more part of an earthly circus inside the world’s terrarium, performing under some badly cracked glass