striving at the condensery
when did we first hold hands?
was it that time we ran outta the playground
to compare the rocks we found
at the edge of the woods
was it on the way back to your place
after coffee went way-longer
than we expected
maybe it was the walk through the cemetery
overlooking the creek in the fall
you whispered, we could do worse
or was it
when we first came down from the trees
and startled by the saber-tooth
I grabbed your hand to pull you to safety
by ship they came
Italy to Lovejoy
breathe in
the fuel of work
rounding the corner
the sweet heavy cloud
of hauling
wheel spins center
clutch, shift, release,
accelerate
motor rumbles like grampa
before the steel mill
heart attack took him
moving product to market
Nakuru to Mombasa
Montecristi to Santo Domingo
Bay of Penty to Auckland
transporting me
and once exotic fruit
to port and home again
© 2012-2022 Brian Brown-Cashdollar
June Yard Work
only seven days into summer
yellow sumac leaves fall
the sharp smell of cut grass
warning surrounding plants
keep mowing!
plenty of time left
plenty of grass to cut
July at Lake Erie
the warmth of noon sun
tempered by the lake breeze
suntan lotion everywhere
usedta be just for the beach
usedta smell
just like sand
August Light
summer’s fleeting
on the Niagara Frontier
half this childhood season
just to tell us — almost done
nights creep towards fall
whiles breakfast retreats
from sunshine
to dawn
to dark
© 2013-2022 Brian Brown-Cashdollar
/* May feel a little rushed, but I like the image of the physics of fear. */
light clinging to snowflakes
snow sticking to everything
a perfect squall
a travel ban
the roads were ours
swerving across medians
spinning through intersections
a high school thrill ride
me, Marty, Red
tires skating under street lights
boys hurtling towards snow banks
instinctively I palm the wheel
in the back Marty squeals
You’re so cool!
as I try to control the physics
of rubber, steel, flesh and fear
© 2014-2022 Brian Brown-Cashdollar
her rigid
rheumatoid fingers
only bend so far
precariously
she braces items
cart to checkout
provisions in preparation
for the forecasted blizzard
© 2019-22 Brian Brown-Cashdollar
Jennifer in Managua
on the outskirts of Gringolandia
twizzling a straw
drawing on her maracuyà
we were there for revolution
yep, that’s passion.
© 1989-2022 Brian Brown-Cashdollar
rocking on the porch
the moths all drawn
to the bulb above my head
the soft collision of wings
against hot glass
in the valley Machakos twinkles
what did they do
for millennia
before there was light
© 1987-2022 Brian Brown-Cashdollar
we’re not supposed to say it
but, when you’re damaged
you don’t get to be
undamaged
scar tissue
is weaker
than intact skin
sometimes though
life is stronger
than injury
© 2015-2022 Brian Brown-Cashdollar
as a young man
I thought
button-fly
more authentic
than zipper
I believed
divinity,
purity,
real-life
were found
in struggle
really?
I mean come on
what the ever loving fuck
; )
long slender legs
close in on faux heaven
what boys wouldn’t give
to get there
what girls wouldn’t give
to be there
promise of a new land
promise of new love
mama’s lessons from Mae La
don’t translate to America
refugee camps are for waiting
Buffalo is for living
© 2013-2022 Brian Brown-Cashdollar
browncashdollar 