“The Piles Of ‘Milty’*” Tanka 6690

(October 14, 2024)

the piles of ‘Milty’s’

debris give me back title

and use of front yar

“cheated” on stacking refuse

in gutter, with rain-drain space

*(Last time the city of Sanford, Seminole County, Florida, had such a storm debris pickup, the “claw” equipped six-by truck gougede out a foot deep furrow in my front yard getting to the debris which then filled the open field across from the former Sanford (then Seminole) high school athletic practice fields and now a parking lot across from Sanford Middle School – when I went there it was a 7-8-9th grade junior high – with paid crossing guards to protect the learner-tykes-no-more as their privileged parents chariotted their kids to prison – ooops, school – instead of filling up two and often more residential streets to t he school’s south with a collection of big wheel pickup trucks, wide-body style of course, pricy and also big SUVs based mostly on pickup truck chassis and all other manner of autos parking on both sides of a too-narrow street which used to have “no parking” on both sides of the street signs which found demise at the bumpers of said big rigs piloted by those who would not think of having their progeny walk any further than across busy 18th Street fronting the school’s southern side which also has cars and trucks lining up (some trying to use my driveway as a parking space) and often as not disrespecting private driveways and front-droor walkkways as perfectly fine places to park. The kiddies have to walk in t he streets at least part of the way. On my street there is no sidewalk nor crossing guard. Yet drivers’ convenience dictates when the devils drive cherubs to class, neh? So with almost all of my three lots’ worth od debris and the usual collection of recycle and garbage and the some of a neighbor or five, I get to feed my feral black neon-green eyed cat whilst I shade-sit and read, quaffing good ole Snaffurd allegedly tainted city water. At my parents’ house I drank from a shallow well pump’s hose end when outside and thirsty -just a slight minerally taste with a hint of sulpher I still miss. We all used to drain our used motor oil back in the yard near the alley and we all – okay, mostly boys and sometimes their dads – quenched a non-beery non-sweet tea-ey thirst and not a one of us had three eyes of horns hidinginthe hairline – leastways not recently revealed. Go back and park in the big lot once Sanfor4d has evicted softball, football and, yes, cricket players (once even kickball enthusiasts) to stage all the debris, though Hurricane Milton (of as I prefer Him-A-Cane “Milty”, finally has been hauled off to more appropriate dumpsites, Has none suggested using county prisoners to sort t he trash from the trees and feed the good stuff to incinerators to provide power and valuable potash for community gardens and thus while polluting pristine? air reduce by a large margin an overstressed state existing with our trash dumps? Naah. Nebber Hatchee Hank or Helene, some eco-freakin’ lawyer will put a stop to that!. I go now to get back to my front yard to watch t he trash and recycle trucks went their way trough a probably mostly deserted street, as God and I intended._

“Week-old Hurricane Irma Pre-Dream Found Hiding In Posts”*

Irma’s tail twitches

Florida with blessed rain:

some say more to come.

 

  • (I was bugged all week, not being able to find the above post in my perusal of past posts and running eyes down the scribbled pages of my notebook…then, after a day off from the keyboard doing the pre-Hurricane pre-preparedness stuff like trimming hedges and palm fronds and big-shrub branches, moving things about to get ready to move things about in case they require garaging.  Still have 100 more 2-liter water bottles at “The Ready” to fill; got the supplies laid in, the fridge and freezer mostly eaten out of no-generator blues in case electricity fails, and but need a few minor twitches.
  •  (But not finding the haiku really bugged me.  Then when I quit looking, what pops up?  Yup.  Irma’s Tail Twitches, whose headline failed to type Irma. thereso making the finding of same more difficult.  I do difficult well, though much more accomplished at impossible.  The possible and probable are problematic, however.)

“A Twitched Tail Tale – A Week Early Posting of Hurricane Irma’s Time Before Florida”

Irma’s tail twitches

Florida with blessed rain:

some say more to come.

 

“Muy Perozoso*” Tanka 298

Him-A-Cane litter

coats the yard, street and roof still.

I wait for leaf-fall!

 

The twigs will start my ‘que fires;

big branches will give me smoke!

 

*(It’s been more than 50 years since last I studied Spanish in high school…Perezoso or Perozoso?  I quandary the term for Lazy?  I can hear Sra. Williams still in her Puerto Ricana voice chide one of her better students – she made me take Spanish II and III together and all I did was take Spanish because there was this girl named Barbara….I did talk Spanish to her, I said, pointing across the row of desks when Sra. Williams so peremptorily interrupted my conjugation of the verb amare.)

“Muy Perozoso!*”

Him-A-Cane litter

coats the yard, street and roof still –

wait for the leaf-fall!

 

*(Apology for the possible misspelling of Lazy in Spanish.  I should know how to spell it by heart. Sra. Williams’ favorite word – among a few others – for one of her star students  50 and more years ago.)

“Great Gobs Of Gator Guts?”

‘Gators should shed tails

in shame  – See Irish and ‘Pack

play in monsoon rain!

“Still The Same Show”

Talking Heads showing

the same damn radar picture

near three days straight!

“Talkin’ Heads & ‘Sperts Abound”

Talkin’ heads and ‘sperts

muchly wrong yet again! Why?

Circle Jerks with smiles!

“Scofflaw Drivers Ignore Stupid Rule”

Scofflaw drivers do

The Right Thing: Storm’s gone – We Drive!

Curfew* edict dies!

 

*(Originally typed last line “The Law Folds Its Tent” but I differed instead to the line about Curfew…originally French out of Midieval to early Renaissance times. Curfew, literally “Cover The Fire” from times when burning faggots (get that filthy mind out of the gutter – just a bunch of wood soaked in flammable stuff a la the Italian Facie (sp?) from which Fascist is derived) and later coal oil and later still coal oil and whale oil and gas lamps with a night watchman’s job included covering (extinguishing) the lamps, thus “Curfew” means getcher scofflaw ass inside and quitcher mischief-makin’ Thus endeth the sermon. There will be no collection.  Please turn in your hymnals to Page Zero-Haitch-Zed and sing along with me: Shall We Gather At The River – where John stores his extra hootch?)

 

“Wall-2-Wall ‘Him-A-Cane’ Blues”

Wall-2-Wall ‘Him-Cane’

endless talking the same points

with Five Hours! to go!!