Just a Wednesday evening

out back toasting a Padron

sipping some 101

I’ve got a Miller open too

it’s fucking hot

and summer isn’t here yet

(officially anyway)

the flies are doing their thing

crashing into my skull

landing on my head

trying to drown themselves in

my brown fluid of delight

I now have a new problem

on top of the heat and flies

these motherfucking gnats

can’t a man relax in peace?

don’t answer that

I won’t like what I hear

it’s a green day 

very vivid

the magnolia tree that I transplanted 

from the Eight Mile house (not Detroit)

is relishing in the Baldwin dirt

reaching for the heavens

my wife picked the first

ripe figs of the season today

I wish I liked figs

my dad and grandmother loved them

they taste sort of like sweat mixed with cum

with a slightly sweet undertone to me

we have numerous small lemons again

starting on the tree we thought was dead

my plum tree


is a frigid barren bitch