verlie burroughs

 I am leafing through a new novel by Icelandic writer Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir searching for a chapter title to use for my poem. Choose a chapter title from a favourite book   is today’s poetry prompt. I’ve looked through all my favourite books for chapter titles, but they all use numbers. My favourite book is ‘The Tree’ by John Fowles  and Frank Horvat, but it has no chapters, only photographs of trees. This won’t do. It’s the same with every book I pick up. Chapters are numbered. There is no poetry in that. I go back to ‘Miss Iceland’ (my friend Jen sent me on her birthday last November). I thought of you the whole time I was reading this , she wrote. Graceful...this winning tale of friendship and self-fulfillment... is sprawled across the cover banner. I read the book and searched for myself,  and recognized our friendship in its story. The protagonist is a single girl; a writer who lives with a poet in Iceland. And works as a serving girl in a coffee shop. It is 196...

 Birds are puddle bathing, Got me laughing. Golden crowned sparrows; Tiny rainy day Pharaohs. Arrived on a spring day. I wonder if they’ll stay. Attracted by my trees, And of course the seeds I sprinkle on the ground When they come around. We didn’t plan for rain But they don’t complain. Splashing exuberantly Out in the driveway.

 Oh how I long for the Sound of Loredo Near the end of April, or the first part of May. My old fishing buddies, that is where they go; To Aristabel Island and Kitasu Bay. There’s Keith, and Chuck, and Rosalie Pete, Wayne, Sparky, John, and Dennis to meet. Now they are not rich, and famous and all, But if I was in trouble, they’re the ones I would call. It’s a wonderful feeling to get under way. First trip of the season, what a glorious day. Across Queen Charlotte, up Fitz Hugh Sound. Along with the geese, we are northern bound. But when we arrive, we hear to our sorrow No salmon today, maybe tomorrow. But they finally come, and they’re big and they’re mean. The wildest spring salmon that you’ve ever seen. Everyone’s laughing, Boy this is the life; We’ll keep the banker happy, and also the wife. Now what I like to hear, when the weather is tough; “Let’s head for the bay boys, the sea is too rough”. Put the spoons in the bucket, and coil the lines neat. Last one in the bay has got di...

 V Ver Vera Verla Verily Valerie Vickie? V e r l i e  is my given name. It has no ethnic origin. It has no meaning. It’s an invention. A British stage name from the turn of the Century is how it was explained to me. (By my Professor of History) My Mother named me after her best friend. And that is how I came to be me.

 I read the news today, Oh boy. No News Today the headline said. No fake news No bad news No having a heart attack news No pandemic No polarizing politics No rhetoric  No Donald J. No disasters  No mass extinction No Amazon Basin deforestation  No News Today the headline said.  Oh boy. Breaking news is taking a break. Ironically it was this very day an earthquake, and ensuing tsunami swept our little town away. News will be back the following day, listing the missing on the front page. Oh boy.

According to the mythology of the ancients, the souls of the virtuous after death would go to Elysii Campi   where their happiness would be complete.  Their pleasures would be innocent and refined. Bowers evergreen, delightful meadows with pleasant streams. Where the air was wholesome, serene, and temperate. Birds continually warbled in the groves. Everything in Elysium would be just so. But wouldn’t you know... Achilles and his cohorts would be there also, waging war on the wild beasts.  Trojan chiefs would be placed there too,  (specifically to manage hoards) And the Poets! Having continual feasting and revelry. Gratifying low desires of the debauchee. If the ancients only knew what they were heading into. No inkling of the extraterrestrials travelling in the everywhen, through all dimensions, free falling fuggheads  too numerous to mention. Slipping through gateways and portals, Replicants, Androids, and all manner of space trash, drawn to earthlings to ...