If the corn is gonna be “knee high by the Fourth of July”

Or so the saying goes…

Then I guess it’ll be reachin’ near to heaven come August Twenty-Seven.

Reporting live from the cornfield in my hood

Yep, we like our cornstalks nice and tall in these here parts.

For reference, I’m 6’5″ tall.

In non-USofAmerican speak that’s 195.58cm.

Anyway… in case you’ve never had the fun opportunity to walk about a cornfield, now you know just how tall those towering cornstalks can get.

#whilewalking
#cornitswhatsfordinner

 
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Memories Like a Dream

My father and I are struggling to mount his just purchased used dirt bike to the back of our black VW bug and I’m giddy as a child because I am a child and then as a family we’re out in the field that runs past the yard with scythes hacking out trails that run past and around the old sagging barn and then beyond into and out of the wood as we sweat under the intense mid-summer sun but I don’t care because I know the reason why we’re all out there and I had never worked so hard and with such purpose and then finally I’m on the back of that bike with my arms tight around my mother’s waist as we fly through and around those trails that I had helped to lay as spiteful thorn bushes strive futilely to slow us down and thick burrs glom onto our pants and socks and hang on for their own lives as I hang on for mine and when we finish the ride that seemed to have lasted only seconds and mom powers the down the motorcycle in the driveway and I holler out jeez that sure was fun! she whips her helmeted head around and fires off one of her patented scolding looks at me thinking that I had just taken the lord’s name in vain…

#fromoutoftheblue
#amdreaming

 

There’s a story here somewhere…


This abandoned car is oh, I don’t know, maybe a half mile or so from my humble yet lovely abode and it’s been parked right there for as long as I’ve lived in my said humble yet lovely abode, which has been oh, I don’t know, maybe eighteen years or so.

Every time I pass the beautiful, wabi-sabi of a relic on one of my walks, I always think to myself, I bet there’s a heck of story to go along with that thing…

And I also always tell myself that one of these days Ima gonna write my own story about it.

Continue reading “There’s a story here somewhere…”

A Poem Illicit by Cindy Knoke

The popular photographer and poet Cindy Knoke wrote us a poem in response to our ongoing flash fiction contest (which ends at midnight tonight so go vote for your favorite story!). Unfortunately, per the fine print of the contest rules, only flash fiction responses meeting the stated criteria will be accepted. All other responses are to be deleted. Yeah, I get down like that. However, reading Cindy’s poem felt to me like listening to a Tom Waits song and if anyone knows me they know I have a huge man crush on Tom. No way I could abandon her poem to a trash can death. So instead I share it here with you where it can shimmy and shake for all eternity as a special supplement to our weekly Sunday Song to Spark the Spirit and Summon the Moves of the Dance…

Continue reading “A Poem Illicit by Cindy Knoke”

The Spirit of What Remains

While I’ve given up completely on superhero movies, ugh, especially Marvels’, UGH!, I am still a fan of the superhero genre in spirit and I have very fond memories of as a child riding my bike to the local grocery store and spending all the allowance I had just received on the latest Batman, Superman, and Spiderman comic books and, at a penny a piece, a handful of Bazooka bubblegum with its own little Bazooka Joe comic strip on the inside of the wrappers.
Continue reading “The Spirit of What Remains”