Using My Religion

Dear American Literati & Colleagues
Across the Curriculum.,

“What are you doing this summer, Sam?”

Nothing, not a goddam thing: sit on my butt in my
office, study, studio, look out the window, watch
the sun coming over the Swannanoa Range, think
& scrawl, and entertain ideas: who knows where
they come from; they fly around like birds and roost
in my skull knowing no one else got room for them
in the inn..

Clouds accumulate over the farm. Occasionally a
buzzard or two glides by—high in the sky, tilting
its wings, slow circling; crows on lower levels
head north to Mt. Mitchell.

I listen to the sound of weed-eaters, the silent hum
of golf carts. Observe young females in spaghetti
straps drive the large front-end loader back & forth.

Grass is cut on a regular basis. Swannanoa Gathering
and Master of Fine Arts students, Quakers and Soiree
people come and go.

Sometimes the wind picks up and the
trees across from Jensen thrash.

My work program & service project.



That’s me on the right. Wasted.
That’s me on the left. Useful
Using my religion.