a stand...
a stand
of yellowed
grass
a tuft
really
against
the backdrop
of summer's
heated malaise
nothing serious
an uneasy
guilty
boredom
a lull
in a progress
as a lazy
dog's day
maybe
the heat
of life's
battle cry
a day
of rest
a Sunday
on a Monday
instead
no desire
to do
fuck all
a no burn day
too
noticed
on the drive
home
nothing
so desperate
as a bank
stick up stupid
simply
one thing
to accomplish
a minimum bar
an MRI
taking sunrise
until noon
full circle
on only
a black coffee
watering later
is the plan
so much
to do
overwhelming
as a grand scheme
aged
and challenged
new personal
perspectives must
match
simple capabilities
finding
an image
to match
the words
that feeds
the appetite
as a New England
Yank
a far cry
from patriotic
fields of rural
greater Boston
finding refuge
behind
enemy's lines
the foothills
off
the forty nine
gold country
a retirement stronghold
just far enough
away
the great shake
of the Cascadia
or the sanctuary
lunacy
of urban chaos
if a pillage
begins
sufficiently safe
from either
tsunami
as the threatening
sword
of collapse
hangs
uncertain
regardless
when
and how
even where
all will be effected
someone knows
not us
for sure on that
whether
a plane
a train
or automobile
preferably
the latter
survival
is much higher
so be it
no choice
no call
no premonition
just buckle up
buttercup
a make
a stand