Posts tagged ‘Minnesota Poetry’

April 27, 2018

3A then up como to st albany

… the 3A stop then
over washington i float
from under
a bridge, light rail
lights spark ultraviolet purple.
winding away from it all.
Mississippi spiral java white foam below.
crackle, hum, bump, buzz. thump.
transit lines like veins spreading to midway limbs.
i head away to daycare near a lake.
crowds by the fair grounds, police waving traffic.
to a stray dog in a parking lot,
sniffing at trash, people with odd stares.
maybe not stray, wears a collar.
calling to say i made it, where are you?
we are talking of Oswald and weather,
“…they said it was supposed
to rain today, but it’s clear
over here.” Yeah, there’s a cloud
over my head, no melancholy intended.

i always say i am starving.
it’s a good way to lose weight to stay in shape.
phone to my face. that dog barked.
i jumped, embarrassment, scaredy cat.
i walked to the back entryway door.
opened it. read the letters stuck with tape.
smelled of diapers and lotion and food.
a church now a school, then dark, very.
same thing. same thing. same thing.
then we all met and left.
in the shadow at that stop back there.
before i left i thought:
i take the 3A now, not the light rail.

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April 18, 2018

eye forget

Individual on a library chair cross-legged, slanted posture, defined by my hue too. glued to this book of content unknown, under clouds too. hoping as you. not fearful of that, so they say. spread open again, flesh book, i grin. same name. no change. i don’t even remember me then. i wont begin to explain. this amnesiac has too much hunny, too little time, nothing to rhyme… vinegar for mind. we all do at times. as valued by how scarce it is; here is a free poem. no wonder im broke. on this chair seeing knowledge is the most valuable resource; cant sell those wares. bare. anyway. one day my eulogy or headstone will say: he was good at Twitter, people liked his stuff on Facebook. all prone. but not with that. it’s important. that media won elections and stole our souls. butt eye forget two.

April 8, 2018

we all know nothing except for that

dusted shades cut the coming light like warm butter,
at the inside hard wooden floor
shadows of imagined exotic and warm,
where rental plants went fastly and
turned terminal in our Saturday’s hue,
in the camera slant, above the golden lamp…
did that rhyme enough for you?
i think i am worried about space debris.
i feel it again, undiscern…
and question everything as everything should be, like:
where are the lunar rovers on earth’s cameras, now?
where are the gods in tragedies, how could they allow?
where are the other sides being told under microscopes amid ads?
deep reflection then a Snapchat to friends
and family who i wish were closer in outer space
and inside with me because of the cold
outside, that is here in April…
what do we call it again… what do we say today… ?
i think they changed it from global warming
to climate change yesterday in below average temps, to
work with our subjective weather model,
so the Narrative can stay the same when it bleeps on the network.
by the negative assertions and constant commercials…
that is why i love modern literary criticism
and the scientific method.
i know nothing, as we all do and i know that.
but you might need this pill to smile.
perhaps something is wrong with you and you can’t tell yet.

April 4, 2018

shells of us

judging a book’s cover, imagine my face imaging.
infinite sides to a story, to a story’s story, but i know.
my flesh tells a tale, probably, as yours does too.
drawn in the blood of i forget them, never met, who cares i guess.
Passover at Easter, some pink ham in me again, belching.
nothing like anything. nothing like i just exist.
broken short nails, overgrown cuticles and shining bald spots.
adult acne keeps me younger than you might think i am.
alphabet soup of words keeps me sane.
reflections of thin air, in thin air scares, wisps.
clowns were in that movie of course, dark rooms, found footage.
still, i see apostles for anything relevant: novel sorts.
new, spring, green, now, on top of the every-thing, any-thing that is
trending hashtag section of their Twitter feeds.
until tomorrow’s Godzilla prowls painting a new-thing to hate,
until the next big no-thing, the next day.
then you do what they say, like clockwork spinning good, wait.
and you want to be different, unique.
then you tell them how much you can relate.
i guess they covered this on the cover. forget this poem.

May 21, 2014

Morels

Porous spores
Creatures of the ground

Soft supple fresh flesh—
As dead leaves they are brown

Under canopy and fodder young stems prosper
A sedentary proper, the dirt remains unbothered

Fleeting as the fast night came
Came they did, with the damp Spring rain.

March 31, 2014

Little Bug (Common Cold)

Little bug you have me
Inside my head you go
Fired up within me
On malign mission you roam

Little bug you affect me
Causing cough and wet wheeze
Sneezes round, forth, up and down
In bed reposed I be

Little bug you make me ill
Few days more with these chills
Across the floor staggering at will
Consuming small round white pills

Little bug you wilt me so
Pale skin starts at a show
Pinked whites of eyes, yellow gunk below
Tight tangled blankets of twill I’m rolled

Little bug you surprise me so
Coming at this very time
Never thought I’d see the warmth gain
While you terrorize my mind

Little bug I’ll set you free
In just a few weeks I’ll be back to me
You make me cold, I shake and moan
Persistence stands, you shall see- as you go

From strong and loud to meek fragile bones
From days about to stuck in grey clouds with this common cold.

December 24, 2013

Holiday Travel (Momentary Transit)

Weary aside as you wake for a bathroom visit necessity,

Think on the moments in the days before and after.

 

Local papers-one, floods the space between the storm-door and the outside pavement.

All those left in haste, we rode in a cold car on a cold day making our cold way.

Watching the seconds on the watch while we wired the arrangements.

 

We barely made it home before calls came on the phone,

We were barely able to close the door and then came more.

 

Unpacking the bags, boxes, and misc. odds and ends, things that to remain we must attend;

Freshly wrapped holiday cheer, we lack the beer and calm emotions to be completely clear.

Snow bound home bound at the bar again with everyone here.

 

Losing all fear.

 

Found someone to care for the cat til we get back.

 

At the front again they look outside at the time we took to make it by.

Look eye to eye, all things on both ends are worth the drive.

 

Standing with heavy occupied hands a visible relief is let in the form of a steam filled sigh, used air from your insides floats and disappears into the star speckled skies.