stay forever youngA Poem by h d e rushinfor vie redd.It's because it's Saturday morning and it just rained and i'm eating cherry tomatoes right off the vine without washing them: Faith dulls our resolve to the point that contamination can equal calm, brakish taste can so closely resemble lust that you just cant stand being alone. So follow me here. I'm watching a Three Stooges movie, the one where the boys are running scared from the desperado's in a covered wagon but the carriage breaks loose from the horses now ridden wildly by Larry and Mo, but Curly remains adrift, overwrought and scorching hot without windows. Frightened, he throws some pots and pans out the back of the runaway carriage and the bad men's horses hooves get caught and they seem to dance that tuwhittuwhoo like hurt owls or those in love make (who can tell the difference?) That metal -to -soul sound with pans that mother made when she was furious with my father. You don't get younger just by wanting to. The woman on the morning news says you have to change your wardrobe to fix the meaning of your life. You can't just want a baby without being in love or want to flee from being captured without first being on the run. We, Jesus, Allah, Moondoggie are not larger in those seconds before we die. Yesterday, while we sat on our porches eating the last of the sunrippened, unsplit ones Ms Walker, 87, drove herself to church, then returned home, lifted the door of the garage and entered the darkened house.
© 2016 h d e rushinFeatured Review
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