Where are the summers of yesteryear?

For a long while, the wasps and I lived in harmony

I am old school when it comes to the rigors of style and grammar that I’ve hewed to in my career

Punk rock, preppy, biker look, Deadhead, office grunt — the L.V.I.S. outfits it all

Though with this one you don’t know what to believe

The lamenting of summers gone by


My old, red kayak floated away

I say, “O’en,” but he doesn’t respond, happy in the moment

A further weakening of the strength of unions