House blessing

Sorry for the long break in updates. I'd like to say that every moment of every day has been too busy, but that would be a lie. Anyhow, this is a poem by community friend and theologian Jim Perkinson. It was written and performed for us at our house blessing. Wonderful.


larkins again


potato curled tires

wires full of tomatoes

enchilada-dreaming peppers

and plots of yellow-gold flowers

showers of rain

bowers of drooping fruit

in a lot like detroit

composting the trash, the mash

the clash of cultures with out scruple

a place for the people

wide-eyed pupils staring stsraight

through the drama, the draped

nape of neck, at the beck and call

of a fallen covey of powers

a backyard praying the hours

haunted by the haunt of the house

re-birthed in the mouth of the local youth

uncouth mirth of a widening girth of care

inside the lair, the noose of a dead

company of cars, sorrow transfigured

by the coming of tomorrow, now

the howl of a hound of heaven rising

like leaven inside the bone of memory

levity like a community in the severity of

the city, a green, green bevy of wizened

souls old as young and laughing at the declivity

in the brain of the polity

a selectivity of temerity, growing spirit

in a box of mulch, a gulch of

hilarity a rarity of courage married

to a lack of money, as sweet as honey

on the tooth

or living on the street of strained roofs

like the moon was as divine

as the kind word of a homeless hand

blessing the rest of us

with eternal comeuppance.