A.G.E's Joint

  They gave us the instructions. I thought they were too good to be true. I was right, She couldn't believe it But the sparkly screen said otherwise And now we wait.

 I want to welcome all the new readers from  Realtor.com . I hope I lightened your day today. 

  Writer's Choice? What if there isn't any choice? Where I'm the Tall Poppy Everyone wants to cut down. Would I call on Devil's Quill to save me? And the cost is being cut down anyway?

  It's Thursday. I'm never looking back At the creak and moan Of the cleats Riding the tide Mermaids and dolphins Crossing oceans And my dreams Playing in my mind.

  In the Devil's Quill Conference Room -Arlington VA. Marty Mammon is giving Lucious Beezelbub his weekly update before the rest of the Executive Staff gets in. "Marty. Have you received the latest report from Topside?" "Yes, Mister Beezelbub. I'm afraid it's bad news. Zuckerberg, who we have had so much hope for, is slipping in his UX and KPI metrics." "Marty, I know I'm old, but could you bring me up on the newest lingo they're using?" "Certainly. In plain language, they are initials meaning 'User Experience" and 'Key Performance Indices", or how he's turning souls into DQ converts." "Like the old 'Primrose Path' deal with virgins?" "Indeed. Our whole process is deceptive walking.  We think part of the problem is Zuck and his team are trying to overautomate the process. More and more Mortals are seeing through the ruse and pushing back. We are hoping we can get him to go back to t...

  Walking hand in hand Gulls cry overhead Breeze sandpapers our skin As we say our hellos Our goodbyes Under the sunflower mural.

  Crescent noon man In the Crescent City Lying forlorn on a Couch Buck Moon band Sound drifting across Esplinade While daiquiris are recycled Making more Crescent Moon Men AI Test New Orleans is Purgatory

  Red Fruit On white plates Eaten by tiny hands Band singing together An American tune As blue and yellow bombs Eplode overhead

Recently, I was looking at a horse trainer’s Facebook page where all the King’s horses were being put through their paces. It got me thinking about something that happened when I was about six or seven years old. We lived in a subdivision and beyond our street were mostly small horse farms, with a few cows interspersed here and there. There was a creek and an abandoned rock quarry.  In other words, lots of places for a kid to get lost in and have adventures.    One morning during the Spring, my mother was cleaning up the kitchen after everyone had left the house. Given there were four kids and a husband, this was not a small task. I was home sick from school, so she had me to deal with, too. She was also seriously hungover, but that seemed to make the time go faster for her.  She was finishing up the sink when the phone rings. With a cuss, she snarches the receiver off the wall. It was the next door neighbor, Mrs. Rowan. "Teeny!” My mom had always been call...

Shambling alone Concrete jungle Screams Banana mush In the gutter Of dust and bones.

  Calm river Clouds cast a melancholy glow Over the abandoned brewery. Vesper call The riff-raff clog the street Chasing the last streetcar Into Marigny How does the rain get made? Cheating hearts And saucy tarts Send the wetness To the sky

  On the shore Slate mass Huddles on the horizon People gather their things  Me? My sanity was cured long ago Trawler on the horizon A flash behind the Bridge Slow roller Second, a bomb. Bring my darkness to light Chaos into a secret order In the pouring rain.

  Dockside bar Sunrise on the table Sunset over the mast Water same color Snake oil on screens over the bar Can't hear, too much noise.  I think of Captain Tony Anchored permanently  Wish for full furl Snapping cloth and following seas

 Alabaster Cathedral Lords over broken concrete Ornamental iron Lined with art Steam Calliope Competes with a brass band And a jackhammer For the ears of passerby This is  La Vieux Carré

  How do you stay in good grace? Time out of mind What you seek is seeking you. Whether daisy, daffodil, or dandelion The bouquet goes a long way.

 The drink sparkles on the rail  In the glow of the blood moon It's been years Since you left But tonight I'm wishing you were here. 

The clock struck 13 on Airstrip One Standing arms out,  Like you had carried a load Nails in the looking glass You hoped it would be  The Twelfth of Never When the shift came Nobody believed it could But it did And you are old Life is short The monster was you all along

 A failure to plan Is a plan to fail Sayeth Reverand Rollins Of Pharisee Church Lightning flashes Thunder rolls Follow that shepherd Into a field of loco weed  Leading us to slaughter The meat is fouled No longer usable  The shepherd doesn't care It was Master's flock. Does Master care? It won't matter For it will be too late. 

One step forward Two steps back Two steps forward Three steps back Queen screams "Faster" Three steps forward Five steps back Five steps forward Eight steps back "Faster again" Eight steps forward Five steps back Five steps forward Three steps back "Again!" Three steps forward Two steps back Two steps forward Final one back Alice collapses, choking on  Candy almonds in her mouth. "May I admire you today? Not everyone could keep pace."

I took a hike in the woods To escape the screaming mind To a place where soldiers Walked on fire so long ago Ruins Standing as testimony Of fallen pride And lightning swords

  Fandango ended A time deliberately lost Left behind in the march of time Where we imagined we were somewhere Paris London Aspen Sharing popcorn And other things All gone now An abandoned husk Wasted opportunity Waiting for the next generation

 Cold morning Chased the Royalty inside Guard changes For better For worse Dr. Jekyll fades Mr. Hyde rages Formal dress hiding  scars Operator Information I'd like to speak to a friend of mine Watching across time

The first hike was on the second day.  So, sue me. I tried There is only do or do not, sadly The first day I was staring at Bourbon Street. My Soul slipping on ice Same blocks I've walked down  And will again. It won't be the same, I know.  They held a prayer and a Second Line In remembrance A stitch on the soul To stop the seepage Of love For our fellow man.