A newly formed creek flowed from west to east in a zig-zag pattern across my backyard.  The back fence was separated by a narrow isthmus of dry land.  An experiment in hydrology?  …Bad Karma?

I asked myself, why? on every sloshy walk through the dirty water. Yesterday, came another deluge–between six and twelve inches.  That made twenty inches of rainfall in the past three weeks.

ross perot 1988

I now, knew what “that giant sucking sound, ” sounded like.  An expression so colorfully coined by Ross Perot, described illegal immigration, during his unsuccessful bid for the United States Presidency.

My galoshes made sucking sounds in the mud as I attempted to drain water from the newly formed swamp.  Mosquitoes buzzed around my head like WWII fighter bombers.

Birdbaths and fountains overflowed.  Everything filled with leaves and green scum.  I hated green scum more than mosquitoes.

Bring on the “June Taylor Anti-Rain Dancers.”  Was there such a thing?  I was desperate.  I needed something to bring back good fortune.  …Make the rain stay away.  Some choreographed high kicks, might be just the ticket.  june taylor dancers

The dancers always looked so happy.  Their smiles were probably part of the act.  No matter–I just wanted to be happy again.


Some people like neat suburbs.  I always am attracted to the rundown and the old and the offbeat.  –William S. Burroughs–

The place to be?
A good place to die?
Empty eyes ignored
Just like before
Escape–break free
From reality!
Somewhere else
Less perfect
Less sky-high
Less Fourth of July
Where, there were
More slices of life
And, less graffiti

After hump day
Downhill slide
Blue highway, blues
Lulled to sleep, by
Bumps, tar strips
Weaknesses, magnified
Sky blended with sea
Happiness was possible
But, just as likely, not
Onward to paradise, as
Banal, led the bland

Defenses bolstered
Because, anything said
At that moment
Could be construed
As offensive
by some, sensitive
Soul, somewhere
Because, those
In the know
Wanted me to know!
Crimeless victims
Protested the loudest
That was then
This was now!

To old to rock and roll
Went with the flow
Through suburbia
While, wind tousled
What was left, of
Rapidly thinning hair
Played familiar games
With same expectations
There were no clouds
In the sky, on the day
After, the night before
It didn’t matter anymore


4 out of 5 dentists recommend this site

Pretty Little Treasures

Don't be afraid to dream big!

Nebraska Wheatie

Follow the Journey of a Third Generation Custom Harvesting Family News

The latest news on and the WordPress community.

Mike's Look at Life

Photography, memoirs, random thoughts.

Black and Write

The Poetic Musings of Dom DIFrancesco

G.D. Alexander: Writers' Blog

A community of writers and readers...

23 Squadron RAF

A blog about a RAF Mosquito squadron

Alaska, Mexico and Beyond...

“One Journey Leads to Another”

The Backdoor Artist

Sneaking bliss on the naysayer's watch.

"Greatest Generation" Life Lessons

This is the story of an ordinary family, trying to live an ordinary life during an extraordinary time frame, and the lessons they learn through experience.

The Return of the Modern Philosopher

Deep Thoughts from the Shallow End of the Pool


This site is Pacific War era information


Because writing is cheaper than therapy. ™

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

Before I Forget

Stories with No Books


Imagination is just a page away...


De terroirs et d'histoires


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,597 other followers