Jason Ryberg

Taking Its Sweet Time

The
wind
out here
pretty much
does whatever it
wants, while its counterpart in the
city has a few restraints, it seems, that it has to
adhere to, at least in theory; something about
the density of man-made structures
as windbreaks which all sounds pretty good, though I’ve seen wind
whip the shit out of big cities
that had plenty of
windbreaks and
structures,
but
it
could
just
be that
out here in
the country, the wind
can take its sweet time with things, but
needs to get a little worked up to go into town.

Flame Job

It
was
really
more of a
primer black than a
primer gray Camaro, if you
wanted to get down to it, more charcoal than storm cloud,
I’d say, more Summer after midnight than December,
end of day, around 4 or 5,

when everybody is starting to get off work and
head on home or down to the bar
to decompress, first.

And, of course,
the blue
flame
job
was
a
nice touch.

 

Jason Ryberg is the author of eighteen books of poetry, six screenplays, a few short stories, a box full of folders, notebooks and scraps of paper that could one day be (loosely) construed as a novel, and, a couple of angry letters to various magazine and newspaper editors. He lives part-time in Kansas City, MO with a rooster named Little Red and a Billy-goat named Giuseppe and part-time somewhere in the Ozarks, near the Gasconade River, where there are also many strange and wonderful woodland critters.