December 2014
Since giving up life as an academic adjunct, I live on the west coast of Canada. Now I take odd jobs to pay rent, write, bead, read, take photos, and think. If you really want to know what I've written in the past, my publication list (with links) is at carolshillibeer.com.
before teaching at the local university, the day begins
parked at the back of the laundromat
the slow spring sun of early morning
meanders its way through uncut
lodgepole and aspen, tousling
night's cranked window, the van quiet
in the dappled arcadian green
rolling out from from under winter's last blanket,
first distant slam of metal chairs on concrete
over brick horizons, the coffee shop beckoning breakfast
and that happy creak of laundromat doors
not much like the sound
of an oak's limb under swing's rising claim
but close enough for a smile,
stretched legs toward the hidden sky
that pendant moment of sweet longing
for coffee, fruit and cheese
but first, sober clothes to clean,
a sink shower at the laundromat,
the mandatory music of human greetings,
slow sidewalk breakfast
and then on to teach freshmen sociology,
or,
how reality might not be as they expect
urban pastorale
the deep afternoon light snitches on the coming night
scavengers gather beer-can lyres and whiskey-bottle pipes
here at the stump, what you can earn is a seat, music and light
horse chestnut canopy, gamboling banana, an artichoke frisking
the broccoli spear on a grocery store fresco, and the scavengers
singing, "oh a banana for breakfast is now my right"
here now in the green shadow of the post-pastorale
shopping-cart hay wagons, tied bundles of what can be worn,
traded and sold; the exposed breast of a singing drunk
horse chestnut canopy, gamboling banana, an artichoke frisking
the broccoli spear on a grocery store fresco, and the scavengers
singing, "oh a banana for breakfast is now my right"
heaving shoulders in laughter, the passed bucket of fried chicken
circle of standing late-comers stamping the curb in time with sticks
torn from dogwood & elder; wave, welcoming brown-bagged grin
horse chestnut canopy, gamboling banana, an artichoke frisking
the broccoli spear on a grocery store fresco, and the scavengers
singing, "oh a banana for breakfast is now my right"
rain's spring wandering concrete runnels in tune along marginal streets
land-owner lights vault the empyrean blight, red and blue burst
with sound, super nova the riven night; as song's final note, someone bellows run
horse chestnut canopy, gamboling banana, an artichoke frisking
the broccoli spear on a grocery store fresco, and the scavengers
singing, "oh a banana for breakfast is now my right"
©2014 Carol Shillibeer