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3/28/2020

Morning Coffee, Attica

Only black,
Brazilian
brew
back then --
Jesus,
bring me the grandfather
clock.
I was wound up with her.
And now, the baby's not a baby.
I am one
of the last
of the few
with an out
date.
Now, instant, I'd kill for you,
you fucker.
It doesn't matter if it's Tuesday.
Waiting for the cleaner,
the weak, lying, prick from the south,
I bolt upright
and consider
the country.
In brave time,
six years,
I'll buy a blue-grey,
six-toed,
one-eyed
beast named
Bandeira,
make him a home-bed.
I do what I can.
I hang on the bars.
Yesterday, I traded a joint
for the hot.
Mop man,
slide the bag
of scalding water
under the hell door.
I'm sure you understand the quick
pour.
When the dogs aren't looking,
maybe I could make a deal
with a visitor
and fit inside one sister's
old, wet,
unbleached
pocket.

C.A. MacConnell

3/21/2020

Photo: Mustang, Outer Banks


C.A. MacConnell

PS. I had to delete my earlier post. Too Debbie Downer. ha. Plus, I had zinc sunscreen on my face in the pic. Win some, lose some. Much love to you out there.

3/15/2020

Mansion

We broke in.
It was all
about the weather.
Seven times,
the scattered sky
spoke through
heat lightning,
and new clouds
coughed above us,
mostly hanging
in patchy rows.
Behind us, the stone
mansion. Someday,
I'll put up an offer.
We swam close
in the strange,
perfect pool;
we were the ice
on the dog day.
Let’s get dressed.
Rain’s comin’.

On the deck,
you checked
my muscle.

C.A. MacConnell

3/08/2020

Photo: Juliet


Pyramid Hill Sculpture Park. More to come tomorrow. :) Hope you like the shot.

C.A. MacConnell