My neighbor, Bob Ruisk, a retired music teacher and a functional alcoholic, is hell-bent on selling his poetry to content creators and influencers, so he could buy a little house somewhere by the ocean or in the mountains.
When he heard that I’m putting together a series of photos titled It’s Morning in America, he offered to write an original 14-line sonnet (in the hope that our collaboration will make shitloads of money). After two days of toiling, he sent me an email: Hope you’re still alive. I think a sonnet by old Billy, modified by yours truly, will work much better for what you need.
Fine with me. So what you’re seeing and reading here, dear subscriber, is my collaboration with the one and only Bob Ruisk.
Sonnet #33, by William Shakespeare, modified by Bob Ruisk.
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
America, the rolling hills with a walleyed eye,
The red of NYC, the black of Texas green
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;




Anon permit the basest smog to ride
With ugly rack on its old and wrinkled face
And from this crazy world his visage hide,
Stealing children’s souls with this disgrace.




Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all-triumphant splendour on my brow;
But out, alas, it was never yours of mine.




Religion cloud hath mask'd it from the holy cow.
For this, my love, no thought is low or thin
Suns of the world may stain, yet often, when you lose, you win.
All photos by AK Kustanographer
Gear: iPhone 13, Ricoh GR III, Nikon D750
‘Til next time,
ak
Smoked an Arturo Fuente curlyhead after swimming in Lake Michigan here north of the 45th Parallel... kind of in your honor!
Oh, what fun. A visual, sonnet track diary. I think it works, natural synergy.💫💥💢