misdirected

I.

the seasons are variable.
don’t know if it is warmer before colder,
or colder before hotter.
close the window anyway.

hah, and you think this is a diary?
it is: of disinformation and the like;
with possibility to forecast severe weather, predict
elections and ball scores. still working on horse race results.

wait a minute, the window sticks.
i know it is the weather;
any weather will do, or won’t
– as in: window won’t open.

II.

the aggregate outlook remains unpredictable,
as churning beach sand under pounding waves,
turning clouds belly up, masking out the stars.
so dark now i have to count on my fingers.

III.

hah, and you think this is a dairy; nearly so.
we drive by a field with sheep each day
where the new ones are a plenty now.
we saw a mother lick off a tiny lamb just arrived.

good for the farmers and the 4H club.
they still have a hand on the soil, thank goodness.
rains are good for them
in reasonable measure.

IV.

you think maybe I just pull these poems out of a box
ha – a thousand times ha!
i grind this stuff out
the way someone grinds bones

okay, so i don’t know who grinds bones
but i’m sure where there’s money to be made
someone is doing it. so in warning:
watch your bones.