Directive to the Circumspect Texan


Directive to the Circumspect Texan

When the vowel trips through the consonant and knots
the tongue, remember this: artifice. A making. In one

hand, a knife. On the table, cured flesh and fermented
products. Imagine uncertain lighting, laughter, a narrow

opening and the uphill walk three days into the parametric
world of occlusion. Tell no untruths. Mention refrigerators

and your proficiency with duck. Admit failure and order
a second pilz. Listen. Discuss heat and issues of space,

personnel logistics and the pleasure of July departures.
Cite advertising and Ashbery. Savor what is rightly not

yours. Embrace inadequacy. Forego dessert. Express
true gratitude. Say y’all. Shake hands. Find the door.


37 thoughts on “Directive to the Circumspect Texan

    • I had fun with this one – describing a somewhat awkward but enjoyable experience. A while back I introduced myself to a poet/editor who had published several of my poems (he was in town for a reading and conference), and he generously invited me to dinner with two of his friends (both poets, but strangers to me – I really don’t get out much). Being an introvert, I usually don’t place myself in such situations. But sometimes you throw caution to the wind…

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I’ve been following you a while, Robert–though here lately I’ve been pretty slack at both writing and reading. (I’m determined to do better this coming year!) Your work is consistently good, always worth coming back for. This one is smart, funny, and very well done.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This could easily be adapted to many regions, particularly in my regard as a WNYer transplanted to the mid-west (what an eye-opener), but it would have to be a checklist, making it all the more awkward as I continually referred to it.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.