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Male cicadae perform mighty shekere

mating symphonies

with abdominal precision

under Dope hollow Moon’s

cold scheming stare

while empathic little 8 inch violet orbs

sprinkle laughing food dust

on moody sycamore trees

that want more attention

and some say in things

not to mention a show of respect


/ walking slowly down dirt trail

– head on fire –

look up and see

a squadron of singing flirty birds

leader flies up close and says :

“you and me               let’s go”


here –

in this place

moist ground

light patchouli air

upon bearded oak stump

I sit –

the conga


the hands




copyright 2016




About a. edward watkins

With the exception of 2 years study of western music theory and harmony- I am a self taught percussionist, writer and abstract painter. Not your drummer boy drummer - not your writerly writer nor the painterly painter. Creativity is an integral aspect of my existence - as it is for us all - in some form or another. My experiences in life have informed and shaped my world view profoundly. I am the disrupter - the never quite satisfied - the relentless creator of word, sound and image. I question the answers and question the questions.

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