Denis Michel Garrison


"Ninety-two... Nineteen and ninety-two... That was the year of ... the great
peanut butter crop... Eight hundred forty ... acres of smooth, ... two hundred
of chunky... We had to harvest it .. with giant squeegees and ... load it in
cement trucks... We were lucky to get ... heavy rains that fall ... to wash down
the loading docks ... and freshen the jelly trees."

"Oh, Lord, it's good ... to sit high up ... on a rumbling tractor ... in the slimy
sunlight ... of a dying summer and ... breathe the baking wind ... as you plow
endless ... fields ... of wonder ... bread!"

Paw stops to hack and retch. Bringing up the cold gray memories of his five
decades in the mines, he saves them in the graduated plastic cup hooked to
the arm of his wheelchair, to be measured and diagnosed. Tossing a vile
tissue in the wastecan, he picks right up in the middle of his too familiar
tale of climbing the Matterhorn with his faithful Sherpas.

I don't argue.

Date of Birth: December 10, 1946
Location: Monkton, Maryland
Occupation: Poet & Editor
Publications: Poetry Scotland, Nightingale, Verse Libre Quarterly, The Writer's Hood, Stirring, Rustlings of the Wind, Poetic Voices, World Haiku Review, Short Stuff, etc.
Chapbook: Port of Call and Other Poems
Editor of: Haiku Harvest
Other: Former editor of Gunpowder River Poetry, Amaze: The Cinquain Journal, and Templar Phoenix webzines, and the Haiku Cycles e-books including Saijiki-X

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