September 4, 2014
This lonely night,
as I scrub clean the soiled dishes.
Wet hands, same the front of my day-old shirt;
dinged pale, blotched, and loose.
Nothing in its place;
corners catching everything,
dirt sticking to the floor,
as the cat meows an indecipherable slight.
All of this would be impossible if it were tried.
Still, stifling hot,
humid as the night goes on,
sits a lonely parking lot.
There is no relief, save for another extreme; Midwest seasons.
-We know, we know.
Small things noticed under skin,
this sliver- this time, sharp and razor thin.
Walking into this empty living room
the radio addresses the score loudly.
Sitting on the couch I put my feet up,
and sink in.
Oh, what a night.
September 2, 2014
I have drunk
that were in
you were definitely
they were refreshing
and so cold
in homage of, and inspired by: This Is Just To Say, William Carlos Williams, 1883 – 1963
June 4, 2014
Currently my ears are to The Current:
1.) I need to do a membership drive.
2.) I need to tell you what I have to offer.
You may need me.
The someday sun guides these moments,
Skimming and scanning words for entertainment.
Dessa Darling writes of trendy folk
Sitting somewhere in Uptown
In a hyped-up exclusive dive
She frequents all the time.
Feeling somewhat deprived…
Locally famous can get you work—
Haven’t you heard?
Can one person tell us of life?
Exposing us to worth
__Describe what to like,
And what’s cool, new, and authentic! (Right?)
Mundane to old
Fresh to mold
Hot to cold
And I digress,
I do so, but
So it goes.
Who decides the content?
What did they accomplish?
A fine print promise
Only allowing what we should know;
Ads and Marketing pave the road.
Candle to the sun
Eyes attempt escape
Another torn notion
Another empty page
We read on:
We read on.
Their sales people and prospectors betray
Their photo editors have much to display
Constantly political in profitable ways
Constantly cynical; printing what pays
And we run off to a book, to a poem, to a forest, to a river,
To hear nothing but the truth.
April 22, 2014
Shoes lined the step
No faces to connect
Worn Chuck’s symbolize fun
Mindset symbolized by dress
Who owns them in person?
Who unties them at rest?
Who wears them out walking?
Who sits them snug under desk?
A mile in shoes and you’ll know any old fool
One’s on life’s route just running through
Jumping foils and flows constant as they go
Rubber soles smoothed stories traveled true
The ebb and flow goes under toe
The times that move ever slow
We walk on fast, and move on past
Our shoes just follow below.
One can always tell a shoe by the wearer
One can tell a major by Chuck Taylor’s (English).
April 21, 2014
I can read the scar on his face
I can read the scar on his face
It’s not a conjured statement, it just is
It exists on just that
It will never leave him,
It will be there tomorrow when I look back
April 7, 2014
Lofty clouds amassed,
Images of which to defuse
Hung high mingled against cool inoffensive air
Robin’s eggshell-blue lay o’er matted grass hard hazel hue,
Collecting odd glares
As the willing and able
Constantly circling the direction of perched Cock,
High, going all spun round
Oh, please come down, a sight not to mock
Shut-up, shut-in, sit straight, out of side-
What was impossible is now probable and ascribed
Fond apathy now bruised- speak of senses, sneakers: tied shoes- dried and rash, none could chance a comparison for truth
Left those pedestrians and people-watchers completely confounded; light thought that drowns the senses, unawares and confused.