Country Reel

It’s like an old time movie
Starring Slim Pickens
Or Grandpappy Amos,
We just shuffle along
With Andy and Opie
Down to the fishing hole,
Fast Eddie says what is real
Is the ass end of a fishing pole,
Then all of a sudden the sky opens up
Pouring down some cold rain
So we hole up under a red cedar
Hungry for the fish we never caught,
Late for supper
Under the weather
Over the hill or the rainbow
Whichever is last,
We’re just thankful when night comes,
Then the soft green light falls around us
Before the Manna of Heaven
Rocks us to sleep.

Country Jig

Gettin’ to the breakdown
Nervous or not,
Goin’ to a hoedown
Out in the garden plot,
It’s good to be gettin’ down
Diggin’ some fish bait,
Put it on the dinner plate,
A pig in the pen
Is worth more than a bush,
Pick up the old settin’ hen
Take away her chicks,
That’s what life is like
Out here in the sticks,
Grab your partner and do-see-do,
Barking dogs never bite
Lately they been barkin’ all night,
When the saucers land
Out in the field,
We go out and greet them,
Have a barbecue to show them
What it is all about.

Country Aire

Honey bees vibrating in the key of C
We shout “Miel!” and “Eden!”
As we dance about in the downpour,
Running between the hives,
Drinking fox grape wine,
Eating the settlings
Before we stop in front of the Destroying Angel,
Bowing before it
Beseeching it to change and stop its poisoning,
To give us visions,
Someone grabs a saxophone and yells “Monk!, Monk!”
All fall down,
Then look in wonder
As a small creature emerges from the break,
Scurrying off with a bottle of wine.

Visitors

Something is eating the grapes
Don’t know what,
But there have been greenish lights
At night in the vineyard,
The camo camera flashed,
The digital image showed nothing
Except a faint haze around where
Whatever it was laid,
The dogs won’t go there,
They sniff and whine
Then go lay down
With their ears perked up
While we tend to the harvest,
Wondering at the missing fruits
On the lower one third of the vines,
Turkeys the neighbor said,
Or maybe deer,
But there are no signs,
Only a faint rustling of leaves
Where the brushy woods start,
A faint sigh heard as we take the rest.

Wedding Reception

The wedding feast was over,
We saved the best wine for last,
Now we had to deal with the beggars,
The homeless who waited outside,
They’re drunk,
Someone said,
So are we,
We replied,
Loading up the leftover wine,
We were faced by the old black man
Who asked for money,
We told him we were broke,
Gave it all to the Bride,
The security guard approached,
We told him it was ok,
Handed the old man a bottle of Champagne,
He quietly dissolved away,
We continued our loading,
The guard shook his head,
Told us we could have been killed,
We looked at him and asked
If he knew who the old guy was,
He’d be better off dead
The guard replied,
Sure, we said,
He's already been crucified.

The Golden Cloud

The horde of bees became a deafening roar
Like the winds of a hurricane
Droning on forever,
No respite from the howling winds
Or the dreadful humming,
Only cowering in the relative obscurity
Of the false night
As clouds formed above and all around us,
Lightning bolts stinging the ground
With horrendous roars of thunder,

Then calmness and light,
Greenish gold light from the center
Of the cloud,
The eye of the hurricane,
The droning of the bees in the Key of C,
Becoming for us a dirge
As we picked up the dead,
Carried them off to the charnal ground
Throwing them on the piles of other dead,
Listening to their hollow plaintiffs and cries,
The cry of the bees in the hollow bones,
The echo of the high wind through the skulls
Of old masters and young students,
A flash of light in the ancient eyes
Signals the coming of the Golden Cloud,
The arrival of the Spirit and the appearance
Of the sacred Chalice,
The Crucible of God,
Shall we drink from it together,
You and I?