Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Summer Things

the birds singing,
the wind moving through trees,

the memory of your body, breathing,

the grass out in the open searing off,
drying up, burning in the
hot july sun

nice. i feel this poem.

Izz this THE Mingo, like, of days of yore? Whoa. Maestro Minimal, the muses of snowy Parnassus itself herald your auric effluences with their beatific choirs......!

Or perhaps an imi-mingo-tator. Brautigan lives! like, and so do his few dozen acolytes across the parks and homeless shelters O Amerika.

imi-mingo-tator...too much...when I quit laughing like a fool I'll continue...no,really, it's me days of yore et.al...(Whew! for a moment there I couldn't breathe) no,really...so how ya doin,Toten, ya bloody ol' cloud merchant you?....

Ah'm alright: could have a lot more scratch, but alive, not in jail, and undiseased. Did you happen to note the recent, er, marriage a la mode of one literary-site henchman and his trusty assistant ?? Interesting (of course I don't want to offend S8 moderators, and shan't say anything nastyish.....).

i hear ya on the scratch,same here,etc. just found out I've been called for jury duty beginning next month...be a first for me...as to the a la mode I let those things take care of themselves...that kind of thing gets on your fingers and crawls right up your sleeves...

and that poem does brilliant justice to the dried out heat languishing over fields,
hot sweaty afternoons with nothing much to do but turn on a ceiling fan and hope for the fantasies to come true

HI judih - thanks for reading and I hope you are well this grand day- sometime you must tell me how ya got to israel -

thanks for reading Jan - I hope it's a hell of a grand day for ya that brings ya music, friends, inspiration & continued breath & most important, laughter...see ya

Mingo in my retrospective stage of life this poems speaks to me. I remember a life like this I once had.

John