muRMur (a sketch)

and in and in to a bRight wheelbaRRow afteRnoon,
is it, all of it, Really?
to lay in the gRass,
no it's not, I have a pass,
scattered gRavelly shoes thin bright
shadows, I am in the low

murmurmurmurmurmurrrrr

close to the gRound
her Musician's chin Resting
on the black body of the guitaR
and I can't heaR heR, but I love heR

haven't had a dRop
the heat dRip of

hot coffee
waRM tongue
cool wind
bRight blasted day...

i don't need to taste it,
the poRcelain scRape of
Mugs And sidewalk ceMent
Makes enough to iMbibe.

joe is like a lion--pondeRing
caRolyn is the Roof of a tRee--editing
and what i Must be is
those scatteRed gRavelly sandals

in the hallelujahs
of iRonic pop songs
the subliMity of tasty sandwiches
Rolled fish pRessed flouR
Rice and
thai beeR laRd
tequila