why the ostrich

washing the badminton net
knots floor over the wise
hinting vegetables falling
toothpicks not far behind
the lab rats were running
sure as trout fries
lice in the pudding
pick pocket deep
all the junkies store their johns
right quick
not enough time
laces undone
slow slow quick quick slow slow
dancing not meant
cooking show over
wising green beans
over and over
nothing to do
washing vegetables just to be cool
the labyrinth hot, doors no
pudding dance in the middle
washing their spool
catwalk done in
dog doors swung open
casper unfriendly
stools stood drinking wine
get the vegetable cup
v8 running
car or drink. what do you care.
isosceles between covers
mints flow back
cartridge in middle
blacken or lighten
lignin returns without a word
does not pass go
turning unravels, root looks good
grass fries for no one.
trespassing doors
no longer a reason

denis streeter   10/23/17

wiped

I don't know where travelers go
spreading spaces ill defined
alliance of trolls
patrolling yards shear dusty faces
treasure seeps through holes unkind
in your den Daniel dies
liars pick his bones
tamers shrew the pieces, horns bent
chaos chews the elements
wrong becomes your friend
tempest blows the rhyme
temples flower resist and crave
no room for dungeon flows
you don't know your there. 
don't want to
beat, burnt, wiped
don't look for cognizance
the gears are ill defined
songs know your name and cave
grinding hope in plague writ mind
gear shot in blind
tame a tsar communal
fields spread with funerals
manna of death
cover your nose
don't eat the vegetables
cry before noon.  your temple don't know
evening flows with dark birds rising
catch their talents
ride the wind


denis streeter   10/18/17

writing wrongs

tried between two faces
tantamount within
fried onion bide
ocean lines wide
only to slide through ocean's bliss
everyone in fleese
once a century wash back knees
a temple in its mist
southward ghetto tries as oceans moor
wakes up cotton balls
snorage lids puff untoward tongs
others write wrongs
lancing wombles helps the bleed
whilst lit horizons lace
cannibals in thimbles
water zoos for something to do
it wasn't of, just lasso
there isn't much to do
gathering waters move on
time for pudding. the gas to lit
stew tomatoes in lace lit lips
contraband. there wasn't much host
just creamcicles in lime lit bottles
lederhosen did not exist
stewards in leather bottoms pumpkin away
stretched but not unkind though the hips were divine
not enough for snoring to commence
any line of pots would do
the lids popped and the lines engraved
didn't matter as it opened the mind
gravel snuffed in orange blossoms
a snare of sleep
too much wine in the coffee
distaste for staph infection
nothing for the cleaner
scrubbing inward, screaming out
wash your vegetables, the cleaners off, the lassoes undone
reading untoward, a cowsnip in catsup begun
caustic as catnip fribbled unwise
the signs set up in cannibal
nothing to do but try
it's how all weapons know
and how becomes why


denis streeter   10/8/17

why the butter

it's more than you can catch to winnow the sun
bag slatched and cormer gone
wretch free when the witches are burning and lightning put out the wine
but they always decline when waiting in line
pardon the vegetable when lightning pours
two sticks and an egg mitten glove
it was out with the mix and in with the muffs
tagging for school the opposite bus
listening for magnets in olive slots
toothbrush frayed and washtub dry
spitting and crying in character fries
spoiling the nets and spinning the guns
ops black forward winding reels
one foot left of right
stork stalking baby steps
let her drop, it's not fable
fatal tales schooled
it's not a choice, it's an adventure
reeling the spool, testing the line
one to eat and one to crime
it wasn't suppost to happen
but the high schools dead
oceans of blue indoctrine pink
minutes accept the decline
limnination creation
the doors fled shut open
untoward gestures revived
sots bellow and don't ask why
the butter is wise

denis streeter   8/24/17

craziness

upstage legions of graph reform bit duster cabinets sideways spirited into fly zones shielding shelters from cracker dried spirit creams dressing peanut butter shoehorned by rabbit cucumbers salt shakering bats singing howdy doody shackled to wine yodeled cats dreaming in rose insolent guns of Heimlich maneuvers wandering ghettos trafficking otoscopes in lather street crimes of consciousness feeding scraps of persona nongratin strip mauls of teachers pets mickeys cousins  peet and tabberinth farms dripping bored rabbits sleepy oxygen into hybrid cocoon shadow afternoons contrite sugar snap peas blackberry muffins lather field mice leather bottle tricks blind blanched buttons tricky ditches hiss and moan farming toes blossom botched tea leaves bitter orange rind drying breakfast blind time holes Solomon sought two headed Cyclops one at a time.


denis streeter   7/30/17

In Summer Light

I've only read the first paragraph of this young adult book by Zibby Oneal and I know it's going to be good.

There were peaches in a blue and white Chinese bowl and
a cat almost the color of peaches stretched beneath the
table.  Morning light fell slantwise across the table's surface,
lay like marmalade on the rungs of a ladder-back chair.
Beside the table, sitting straight on the straight-backed chair,
was a little girl, feet bare, hands folded.  Here dark hair
grazed the sharp bones of her shoulders.  Her eyes were
intent.  Perched there expectantly, erect on the chair's
edge, she was like someone awaiting an invitation to
dance.

Zibby Oneal, In Summer Light, Viking Kestrel Press, 1985, page 1.

Read on...

Denis Streeter   5/31/17

wherenaut

the watch burning noses
pulled tongs from the fire
itching tong to themselves
finding floors to follow, itches to ride, films to lice
realize the eyes don't have it, the floors follow the eyes won't
dusty cabbages, forlorn racks, crispy fingers, rabbit toes
it's none of those
it's
star potatoes, ate onions, rabbit flies, ribald ghettoes
the racks are missing.  don't know where to go.  all forlorn.
follow keyboard figures,  finger the way
down this rabbit hole, the mine lode flow
wishing wells know, the washing gets done
the ribald understand, but wont cuss
leftover reads down shore, kindle books burning light
page outmode linus blankets, books bearing masters
splitting the difference
pens and pawns, misunderstanding
watching the prose con the knows
pleas follow the jumpy and contagious  it oxen acts that way.
floors wall open some angle perspectives
sand filling out and up
castle imagines
where we are living
we wonder why
if not, wherenaut

denis streeter   4/30/17