lassila

for nowt
the moon and a sandwich
in the backpack

late summer flowers
a crack appears
in the pencil

stopping to pick hops
your hands become the ipa
from three summers ago

a fisherman waiting for the train

dying moths
covering the linoleum
pencil shavings

your passport photo fading snapdragons

a flock of geese pass over lassila allotments for a moment all the gardeners stop and look then silently they agree to work a little longer and harder this evening

monkeys ain't shit birds 4ever

I keep having this dream where my glasses break and I put them back together. And the mood of this whole dream is that time is moving very slowly independent of my tasks and it all loops over and over. Ok. When I wake someone has always left a note beside the bed and it reads -  monkeys ain't shit birds 4ever.

💬🍐

Aaaaahhh. That’s no way to talk to a pear.
Aaaaaahhh. That’s no way to talk to me either.

Aaaaaahhh. That’s no way to talk. 

Aaaaaahhh. That’s no way to bicycle.  

Aaaaahhh. That’s no way.

🐂🌁👺🌕🕡

enough moonfull

she takes the bat

out of her ear

the astrology 

of a q-tip shutout

karmic waves

surf’s up

don’t I know it

all your fingers 

as olive brine

salty licks

if I could I would

blissfully dance

deepening spring

a cow becoming footloose 

in thick mud

dropped stitch in time

the cowl appears in newcastle

from grainger market

he carries the stottie cakes 

through a thick fog

prove it, prove it

the cartesian baker calls

sitting on mars

an evil demon flicks yeast

towards earth

Ray Caligiuri, Beaverton, Oregon, USA

Michael O’Brien, Helsinki, Finland 

a dishwasher can be a hard thing to get used

A dishwasher can be a hard thing to get used. The rowan berries start to ripen. I say to the chamomile tea bag. I make chamomile tea with a chamomile tea bag. I decide to dissolve a dissolvable multivitamin. I drink the dissolved dissolvable multivitamin instead of the chamomile tea. Let’s dirty all the dishes I say to the chamomile tea. We dirty the ones with fish prints first. 

a whistle of crows feet

do you finally sink without the moon?

neptune orbiting seven drain plugs

are you dancing this weather?

in virus air bluer sky fevered dreams

will half-baked clams reclaim the beach?

the perigee of muscle memory, blindly, of course

pointing towards the abyss - does this make my butt look big? 

that huge crack produces the kindness of strangers

might I impose for a whistle of crows feet?

lip balm, that's the night, buddy.

sergeant or colonel, lieutenant? 

beer battered the humvee explodes a chicken

is the last string quartet sanitized yet?

the gel like apparition of grandma's dinner says everything

brussels sprouts, you know what time is, right?

when last checked the calories left me behind

how does a slow burning bush receive absolution?

marshmallows - what the jumping cow became 

two choices wise guy - obama or omaha?

a surfeit of clouds blinks out the mind’s eye

Ray Caligiuri, Beaverton, Oregon, USA

Michael O’Brien, Helsinki, Finland 

make the morning

winter darkness 

too big for a house 

the lion

an outside dawn light

ants ravage the pants

moving hills

with uncertainty 

we make the morning

source of spring

bounced back by

the river’s tribute

upside down 

the crows pay in r's

the past murdered

a cow settles

for chewing ennui 

Michael O’Brien, Helsinki, Finland 

Ray Caligiuri, Beaverton, Oregon, USA