Sunday, May 10, 2015

Tennessee


graceland’s opulence –
even th’gardener finds it
something t’aspire to
(~15)






beale street, steamy night
tend t’learn th’blues, when you played it
couple thousand times
(2-17)





right ‘long th’cumberland,
th’master’d sing all th’crazy songs,
‘n’ watch th’river go by
(7-17)






wide ‘n’ steamy river
t’ th’pyramid – it’s not egypt,
right there’s th’interstate
(9-17)






native t’tennessee,
plants ‘n th’opry hotel courtyard
touch overwatered
(9-17)






played beale street t’get th’cash
t’go t’graceland – but ‘nother night,
too much ‘f th’cheap stuff
(10-17)






coyotes howling
‘n th’chickamauga battlefield –
hot coffee’s in th’tent
(7-17)






miller hollow creek,
sits on th’bridge – guess it matters
face th’water, or not
(2-17)






come t’spend th’week rafting
chatt’hootchie downpour, ‘n’ they’re stuck
‘n th’piggly wiggly line
(3-17)





nashville coffeehouse
music's cheap - play outside, and
hope big boys walk by
(2-10)







fresh round bales of hay -
we talk van gogh, monet, sartre
right into memphis
(2-10)





works ‘t lookout summers
he sees th’mountain as fuji,
helps ‘m keep his temper
(2-16)







visage of buddha
gravestone in a blount weed patch
eighteen sixty four
(12-11)







pigeon forge tourists
van with air-con, dvd
old dolly movies
(1-07)










her motor home’s stocked –
tenn’see peaches, bottle ‘f wine,
box ‘f dolly movies
(7-15)







bass player’s driving,
th’rest ‘re singing all th’country songs –
long road t’pigeon forge
(7-15)






stay ‘t dollywood f’r th’show,
but then on t’carolina –
band’s got ‘nough harm’ny
(7-15)








back ‘f th’pickup, th’kid tells
why th’clinch highway’s called ‘bloody’ –
then, th’truck loses th’wheel
(8-16)






through th’open window,
short mountain local p’litely
tells him t’cut his hair
(12-15)







two weeks in the woods,
then, ducktown piggly-wiggly -
rafters count their change
(11-13)









chattanooga yard
promise - i'll head out west, where
pollen don't choke you
(2-10)










under highway bridge
sleeping bag against concrete
fall rain, nashville fade
(8-05)









obed valley fog,
river's gurgle, leaves afire -
she wants to settle
(11-13)






rage ‘n’ th’fall evening,
johnson city’s just th’truck stop,
but it’s this guy’s life
(10-17)





clinch mountain hollow
dead leaves an extra blanket
cabin's wood smoke drifts
(7-05)






tent’s up th’hillside –
watch th’smoke from th’cabin’s woodstove,
hear t’ th’leven traffic
(2-17)







wood smoke, clinch mountain,
sees th’old caddy ‘t thorn hill, ‘n’ thinks,
hank died in one ‘f those
(10-17)






love letters ‘n th’wood stove
flew back ‘t her – now clinch mountain
her best chance t’calm down
(10-16)






first snows. clinch mountain
th’hippies’re just like their neighbors,
running out of food
(2-17)






hundreds 'f homebirths on,
at the farm on christmas, she marks
her own arrival
(11-14)







nashville bridge concrete –
seems t’hold th’holiday traffic,
th’rhythm you get used to
(5-16)







hundreds ‘f house concerts –
fin’ly, back ‘n nashville f’r th’hol’days,
‘n’ th’good vegan breakfast
(3-18)






opryland hotel –
she has tickets f’r th’new year’s show
‘n’ she’s stuck at th’cascade
(1-18)








‘bout th’only hope f’r work,
some incense fact’ry down th’road –
winter ‘n east tenn’see
(8-16)







blizzaard on beale street,
nowhere t’go – thought they could busk
indefinitely
(1-18)








on past whitehaven,
glazed roads make it hard to stop -
glance back at graceland
(11-13)










on past whitehaven
got cold, ‘n’ no time f’r opulence
‘n’ don’t have th’entrance fee
(12-16)










inc’dent on broadway
country singer’s numb, ‘n’ wonders
why he ever came
(10-17)






crowded nashville bar –
spent th’winter singing t’stay warm,
opposite ‘f th’opry
(3-17)








turning toward tazewell,
wood smoke 'n' fog, apparition
an old cadillac
(11-13)







come down t’shelbyville
no matter how cold, won’t let
th’nazis march ‘n her state
(10-17)









sung country for th’drunks
‘n lower broadway all winter
thinks he’s lost his voice
(12-15)







vale of wild ginseng,
southern part of clinch mountain -
strong tea when it blooms
(2-10)








tales ‘f th’tennessee spring
psychedelic view ‘f it, th’schoolbus
full ‘f english majors
(10-16)









th’roads near summertown,
th’clover in th’fields, th’clear spring day,
then, come in t’nashville
(10-16)






south end ‘f clinch mountain
she knows when that ginseng blooms,
right now she needs work
(5-16)




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peepers ‘n th’lowland slough,
south memphis, he’s tup’lo-bound –
still talk ‘bout elvis
(1-18)







wanted money for grits –
th’robin chirps ‘t miller hollow
it was th’kind you smoke
(5-16)





from birds point levee
river's crest is relentless
bound for mud island
(5-11)








at forty eight feet
forked deer, wolf, loosahatchie
are backed up, he says
(5-11)







let it flood, he says –
jackson man, still mad ‘bout th’corps
diverting th’river
(9-17)







liv'n in school buses,
droppin' acid - still couldn't b'lieve
this tennessee spring
(11-14)








laur’l hill’s bloom’n ‘n every
color, he says - ‘n’ there we were,
living ‘n schoolbuses
(5-16)




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‘nother homebirth ‘n th’farm
mom ‘n’ baby pose ‘n th’garden, t’put
it on instagram
(10-17)










nashville coffeehouse –
they play so well t’be noticed,
but, just us ‘n’ th’flowers
(11-16)







green fields, round bales ‘f hay,
road t’memphis,’n’ he’s found someone
who knows ‘bout monet
(7-17)









silence, campfire, tea,
heron lands on the obed -
easter app'rition
(11-13)




 

easter in th’obed
marriage, society’s hangup,
but she’s stuck on it
(10-17)





city's modesty -
tennessee's tributaries'
fog shrouds its dogwoods
(11-13)






dogwoods on th’tenn’ssee -
he likes th’fog, but she sees th’ghosts
‘t haunted her childhood
(12-16)









riverbank dogwoods
when th’fog sets on th’tennessee,
‘t’s like pillow feathers
 (7-17)








memphis monuments –
th’weeds grow ‘n th’park garden, ‘n’ he asks
who paid t’remove them
(4-18)

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needs something t’climb on –
th’knoxville lass shows him th’maypop
‘n’ calls it th’passion flow’r
(1-18)







slips out t’th’white oak sinks -
schoolhouse gap trail soothes th’spirit,
whole glades full of phlox
(1-18)


e pluribus haiku

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