troysherdahl

spring raced in with an embrace

and a hot kiss near cold puddles

on a Jasper Avenue corner

soaked by yellow cab

gasping shocked

laughing at dirty white sneakers

breathing in the warm moist

holding hands

hungry

I like simple words

less words

less is more

Hemingway would say

less words have

more meaning

more feeling

and short sweet phrases

are the ones we remember

like            I love you Natalie

a starburst’s the view

from a black hole

as Mama gives birth to

another little planet

(give her a mic)

I’m in a rocket to my star

(dumb)

I need this!

this is my last chance!

I have to make it—

(she’s eighteen)

they all want to be on stage

they want to be on TV

they all want to feel

the heat of the spotlight

and their star

(dumb)

sign up the next idol

sign up this seasons voice

sign up the next Erica

doesn’t have talent

Warhol rolls over

in his grave

’cause they’re all on the stage

and, you know what?

there’s no audience left

no one’s clapping in the dark

the audience went down

that black hole

as Mama gives birth to

another little planet

one scary shadow

of an itty bitty thing

the light cast just so

made it look

menacing—

like the titles of a film noir

the shadow needed a dark street or a wall

one scary shadow

nearly scared me to death

until I saw the thing

that made me lose my breath

itty bitty seemed

so frightening, quite real

until I saw the thing

that made me feel

like my heart was in my throat

one scary shadow

mixed light with the dark

a wall and a gaze

I looked down, tried to be brave—

and watched itty bitty scurry away

so it didn’t get

stepped on

I liked Bill before

the breakdown better

well, Bill can’t go back

to that Bill, ever

his therapy didn’t cure

him

but it didn’t kill him

either—

his family did

give a dog a

bone or

give two dogs two

bones

doesn’t matter

one dog wants what

the other one has

bone dog is

bone hog

the bone monopolizer—

the bully stick

dominator

the words and ghost coyote are following us—

it’s cold, kind of breezy

I’m uneasy

Jack looks over his shoulder

constantly

feeling my energy

hearing the phrases

feeling my negativity

smelling ghost coyote—

the words are mean and frightening

ghost coyote is hungry

I pretend not to focus but

high anxiety

is not just an old movie

the words and ghost coyote are following us

our steps are spent

being paranoid

Tiggy doesn’t care

he’s in the moment

his intent is scratch and sniff

is all nose

pulling us forward

the words and ghost coyote are behind us

I pretend not to hear them, see it— and

pull Jack along

shaking off the veil

good boy, I hear

myself say

blue gnome and floating Buddha

at opposite ends

watching over my rocks

watching over my deck of cards

initiating sight

liberating insight

guardians of my mindful treasures

miners of visionary ventures

mindful of my monkey mind

meditating on view

meditating on sunbeam

meditating on the new

meditating on birds, on flight

liberating insight

I’m in training—

my sensual indulgence enlightened

I take a deep breath, exhale a heavy sigh

rocks, green grass and songbirds are

daydream symphonies

golden rays seen squinting are

sunbeam philosophies

earth elemental immortal

pleasing to the nostrils

pleasing to the ear

pleasing to the eye

one eye

I’m in training—

shifting in my deck chair

adjusting my deck chair

stretching my feet

feeling the boards

blue and floating

flying in over the Leduc County farm quilt

snow lines, frozen creek bends, highway then runway

welcome to E.I.A., ground temperature minus 30

with a nice wind chill to cool your leftover margarita

cheers to E-Town!

and my tan is disappearing already—

welcome home sun dogs