Summer

Hello, here is draft of a poem from today. What the heck!

Stirred up Summer

A mandate for training: training wheels for man.
A truncated version of the mandate. Modulate,
modulate, modulate! The manifesto
(a misnomer) grew tired
before it raged. The worry wart
you burned off. The sliver
you buckled under, born-again
complainer. Ward off fist fight with neighbor
imbibing a cool one: the juggernaut.
We the jalopies playing on the driveway
flirting with the dart board foraging
the red dot, unlikely
given melodious limp wrist, and mode
of transport: synchronicity, wild flowers,
the minnow trap that slowly recovered
its genus from a less than steel-trap
headwhirl where minnows
were birds thrashing about
in mason jars.