Saturday, September 24, 2016

Hawk Season Notebook #341

Hawk Season Notebook #341

The Lighthearted Years Were....

Your pretty blond Belcher Street buck-toothed baby... blowing bubbles with pink Bazooka gum. Taking her to Dante Benedetti's New Pisa at Grant & Vallejo... ravioli and Cokes for a no-baseball rainy Sunday lunch.

Silver-gray moonlight on beached seaweed... bulbs like shrunken heads... bull whip kelp.

From time to time, your brain slipped out of its stirrup.

Saloon... sting of longing. And, despite contrary rumors, no one gave Jesus tomb-wings for resurrection.

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Epilogue: Your goatherd neighbor spots a daylight coyote on rocks overlooking pasture... finds a rifle. Front leg grazed, the coyote spins, tumbles, rises, takes off.

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