Tuesday, May 05, 2015


flannel ‘n’ folk music
she moved out t’seattle from th’south,
she’ll never go back t’live

walk ‘n th’hoh rain forest
among th’moss ‘n’ ferns ‘n’ sitka spruce,
she’s come for th’silence

watching th'show on th'sound -
two vets complain about th'war,
kids play with sparklers

th’bear scoffs ‘t th’town’s parade,
doesn’t mind waiting ‘til night f’r
spokane’s leftovers

seattle folk fest tales –
th’moisture’s hard on th’instruments,
but they sound good ‘n th’fog

two-string violin –
behind th’haunting busker ‘t th’pike,
where they sell th’sparklers

apples ‘f wenatchee
most ‘f us get th’vacuum sealed ones,
th’locals just want th’fresh

fresh onion ‘n’ garlic,
walleye thrown ‘cross th’pike tables –
busker’s found his home

mussels ‘n th’driftwood fire
could live in a place like pysht,
never have t’start a war

olympic beach, th’night
‘n’ th’water hide th’mussels – find them,
throw them ‘n th’driftwood fire

in walla walla,
barefoot kid's joke about name -
they've heard it before

docks ‘f port angeles –
lumber ships bound straight f’r asia,
th’orcas’re just playing

a few bucks, 'n all you
can eat - picking peaches in
the okanagan

okanagan lass
knows how t’pull ‘n’ stack th’peaches
not bruising any

juice from a fresh peach
stains half a washington map -
what was she thinking?

seven ripe peaches
‘n’ what crackers ‘n’ cheese’re left, might last
okanagan t’ th’east

okanagan lass –
usubu t’cut th’ripe peaches,
critters’ll clean off th’pits

vashon ferry lass -
island fog, pines oppress her,
august tan, she likes

even in august,
th’fog sits ‘n tacoma harbor –
th’blanket’s not enough

seattle ‘n’ its flannel –
th’cool folk fest’val breeze, ‘n’ all th’folks
who are just like us

acres ‘f lavender
surprised it would smell stronger
than th’san juan sea breeze

stop t’smell th’lavender,
stop ‘n’ watch th’purple flowers’ dance
in th’san juan sea breeze

spirit lake rainbow
- must have been snuck up here
since the volcano

tokyo t’seattle,
th’grind got t’her, came through yak’ma
t’pick some fresh peaches

tale ‘f th’peach boy ‘n’ th’demons
th’best ‘f japan at th’campfire, sweet
‘s th’ok’nogan peaches

usubu cuts peach
well water f’r green tea ‘n’ coffee,
ok’nogan sunrise

okanagan lunch
peanut butter, fig bars, cheese,
seven ripe peaches

fresh apples at th’pike,
fishmonger takes bites ‘f th’golden
even while throwing

rainy fall at th'pike,
splatter and th'sounds of th'market -
busker finds his rhythm

vale ‘f fiery maples
near pullman – so bold ‘n’ strong, th’west,
yet so far from home

fall like this, d.b.
got his money, jumped from th'plane,
vanished in th'cascades

his hero’s d. b. –
ev’ry fall, takes all th’money,
vanishes ‘n’ th’cascades


leaves’re turning ‘n th’cascades,
in th’forests, looks f’r his hero,
vanished somewhere ‘n here

kid ‘t th’day one center,
noise ‘f th’cranes ‘n’ barktoberfest crowds,
unsettled by th’change

must’ve worked f’r boeing
over turkey, they argue
‘n’ retrace all his steps

homeless ‘n seattle,
scholar ‘f th’history ‘f skid row –
cold, ‘n’ he too needs soup

pike fishmonger's hands -
truth, a slipp'ry beast, the scale,
a christmas bonus

fog ‘n th’vashon ferry
not caught up ‘n th’christmas spirit,
‘n’ mad ‘bout th’time she’s lost

years ‘n walla walla
seattle’s santa-hat busker
still has th’will t’survive

ferry from san juans -
they follow, splash in the wake,
call toast to th'new year

streets ‘f capitol hill
th’night that started with th’countdown,
ends with rainier’s glow

new year back in th’couve
he likes th’more comf’rtable life,
t’her, it’s under th’bridge

outside moses lake,
praying for deliverance -
trucker scrapes more ice

moses lake trucker –
th’highway goes through th’worst ‘f th’blizzard,
asks god f’r salvation

out hurricane ridge,
th’snow’s packed th’roads, but he’s hungry
f’r some dungeness crab

years ‘n walla walla
busker gets by ‘n th’cold months, with
what he learned ‘n prison

bainbridge ferry teens
don't mind long rainy winters -
moved here from vegas


ribbon-cutting ‘t th’spheres –
amazon execs duck th’cold
t’enjoy th’rain forest

back in tacoma,
bleak winter fog's moving in -
she knows the fragrance

stale steamy stillness
walla walla laundromat
thaws a traveler

deer, snow from mountain
fish, whale from sea - hoquiam
drunk knows what he lost

fisherman's dull glaze -
years of spring rains, soaked through, but
for ballard chowder


foggy mess ‘n th’ferries,
he says, likes th’city, even ‘n march
at least there’re street signs

ballard fisherman –
march storm, th’endless rain, th’danger,
th’chowder’s his whole world

hot ballard chowder –
th’march rain soaks into his feet
but th’fisherman smiles

wakes up t’see rainier
even th’earthworm tries t’tell him
t’live life more simply

ever since it blew,
she sees ash instead 'f flowers
'n th'gardens 'f st. helens

loves th’lush green cascades,
but th’cougar lass warns th’hiker
‘f volcano country

th’pink of th’cherry trees,
th’reflections ‘f seattle’s windows –
th’sun goes on t’asia

convention center –
east ‘n’ west, th’grim seattle rain,
th’glass, ‘n’ th’cherry blossoms

convention center
suits in front, cherry blossoms,
and beyond, asia

lavender ‘f th’san juans
stunned by th’fragrance ‘f th’remote field,
‘n’ his girlfriend’s lost th’keys


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