heat

The bus waits (a poem)

2016/08/25

At open mic last night, one of the participants prefaced her two songs by saying that she felt like crap and was running the risk of having to barf mid-song. This poem has nothing to with that, except she was sitting in the seat in front of me, frequently running her hands through her hair.
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The morning after headaches and explosions in the night (A poem)

2016/03/09

Back to the pantoum. The ‘explosions’ part of the title refers to last night’s gas explosion in Seattle’s Greenwood neighborhood. One of the businesses destroyed in the explosion was Neptune Coffee, the first place I ever read any of my writing in public (a short story, in late 2013). The Couth Buzzard, where I regularly participate in a weekly open mic, is across the street and one block south; their storefront windows were shattered.
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A morning poem (a poem)

2016/01/16

The January 16th prompt in The Daily Poet: Day-By-Day Prompts For Your Writing Practice, by Kelli Russell Agodon & Martha Silano, is to come up with a list of ten words each about oil and snow, then to alternate a word from the two lists in each line of a poem until all the words have been used. My snow words were granule, icy, angels, crystalline, blanket, powder, pack, flurry, blizzard, and flake; my oil words were fuel, golden, stain, fluid, smooth, slick, viscous, slip, flammable, and commodity.

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