rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Augustan Lassitude

Cicadas are still getting closer and louder, but still aren't in my yard. I wonder if the fact that we do so little watering keeps them away? They always show up first in the orchard, which is well irrigated, then appear in neighboring yards which usually get their lawn sprinklers turned on now and then. About the only places that get watered in my yard are a few flower beds and a couple of bushes. The only part of the lawn that stays green all summer is the patch growing over the leach lines of the septic system. Maybe my desiccated yard is as unappealing to cicadas as it is to me. The only time I see them is when they come to die in my back porch sink when Autumn arrives.

We are getting lots of hummingbirds this year, though. This afternoon a pair of them were feeding on the trumpet vine flowers. The feral kittens were in the back yard and watched them carefully, but made no attempts to stalk them. They've probably learned that hummingbirds are uncatchable. Besides, why try to catch birds when you've got a human putting food in a bowl for you?

Not only are leaves starting to fall, but I hear acorns smacking rooftops every few minutes. Soon there will be squirrels foraging everywhere. I grow more eager for autumn every day.

Each section of this entry got smaller.

Sunday Verse

A Quick One Before I Go

by David Lehman

There comes a time in every man's life
when he thinks: I have never had a single
original thought in my life
including this one & therefore I shall
eliminate all ideas from my poems
which shall consist of cats, rice, rain
baseball cards, fire escapes, hanging plants
red brick houses where I shall give up booze
and organized religion even if it means
despair is a logical possibility that can't
be disproved I shall concentrate on the five
senses and what they half perceive and half
create, the green street signs with white
letters on them the body next to mine
asleep while I think these thoughts
that I want to eliminate like nostalgia
0 was there ever a man who felt as I do
like a pronoun out of step with all the other
floating signifiers no things but in words
an orange T-shirt a lime green awning

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