“It’s so easy to be a poet And so hard to be A man.” Charles Bukowski 1:00 PM Ribbed pleasure in a spoken-word poem, it… Read more “Hank for an Afternoon”
Hail Mary and ale. Broke a flower’s back in the room, in the armpit of morning, where a tooth aches, needing more from me than yesterday.
A broken leaf enjoys my favorite spot to sit in college. Some kind of string, of nature but not guts, clings to a crack of table.… Read more “Ode to My Favorite Spot to Sit in College”
A crane can scream over the loss of its lover till its throat scabs over, and Bob and I can talk about the bird till we relate… Read more “Ode to a Lonely Crane”
Some amble, others trot in a green square, maybe rectangle, of sunlight, late-day, almost evening, and using a soccer goal’s orange netting as shelter or maybe as… Read more “Ode to Twelve Turkeys in a Field”
I was wearing running shoes, warm-up suit; it was maybe before a meet. I had longer hair. I was blonder. I had rounder glasses. My hair was… Read more “Me and My Younger Self (Written After Guided Meditation for 5 Min)”
I was given two words— “I love…”—and wrote for three minutes nonstop without lifting the pen. Here is what followed. I love words, I love… Read more “Guided Meditation Led to This 3-Minute Free-Associative Poem”