American Sentence #3

April 19, 2008

Leaving Eden we tell each other simple lies like micro fiction.

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Sunday Morning

April 19, 2008

Buster
redbone hound
sleeps soundly
on the front porch
stretched out taking
in the morning sun
dreaming
of the next hunt

you are in the house
frying bacon
making scratch biscuits
maple flavor
drifts through
the open window
you sing Streisand
it sounds good
paired against
these Ozark hills
almost spiritual
bringing culture
to this holler.

blue car stops
in driveway
jehovah’s witness
steps out
begins the conversation
Ol’ Buster raises up
barks slightly
looks him straight
in the eye
and begins
licking his balls
like any good
coonhound
would do
on a perfect
Sunday morning.