Monday, August 1, 2011

Bad Summer Night Poetry

There's a party in my garage,
and everyone's invited.
Turkeys, chickens, garden tractor
coexist united.
In amongst the concrete mixer, 
a brooder design is working well.
But can you tell turkey from chicken
in a building hotter than heck?
Cicadas and crickets harmonize
in a sky marbled pink.
They tell me "go and get a camera!
Then just stop and think."
So I leave you with the sound
of an Iowan midsummer night.
It's time to go in and wash the eggs
before I get a mosquito bite.

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