Nothing is more broken than this (a poem)

Strayed from the challenge again yesterday, after not having written anything for a few days—or so I thought. After posting, I remembered that this poem includes overheard conversation (the bit about the generals)… Feedback howls over the square people pay no mind Some guy in the corner talks about how many generals it takes to [...]

Sinistrata (a poem)

In the twilight through the window from next door the sounds of melancholy and despair once deep within now out in the open darkness under shadow and cover One solitary figure there in the space an architect of gloom a raw wound open and fresh Washes and waves questions in sustain with percussive accents a [...]

National Poetry Writing Month, Day #16

Today’s napowrimo.net prompt is to answer a questionnaire about a place (real or imagined), then write a poem based on one or more of the answers. I ended up writing about my immediate surroundings—more specifically, in the context of my decision to make this what I call a ‘quiet day’. That means no unnecessary conversation, and no devices whose [...]

State of Mind—December 16, 1992 (A poem)

This morning, I have been listening to a mixtape I made in December of 1992… Early morning, Xmas day Almost-forgotten sounds come from the speaker cones There’s enough there to remember the feeling of that December afternoon the sky grown dark the traffic grown thick that chill in the air but the streets still bare [...]

The meeting has begun (A poem)

Yesterday afternoon… The slapback echoes as the door clicks shut Keys jangle footsteps walk off into the distance A whooshing comes from outside an unseen someone walks through the doorway before the slam of the door cuts off the sounds of the rainy afternoon A man stands up and begins to speak (12 December 2015—posted [...]

Waiting for someone outside the door at the end of the hallway (A poem)

A scene from last night’s activities… The sign is ragged, torn with pieces missing ‘STAIRS TO M IN LEVEL’ I know which stairs those are I have no desire to take them no matter how many footsteps I hear from the floor above I do wonder, though when the thundering herd stampeding through the second-floor halls [...]

Dance 2 Noise 005 (a poem)

Written while listening to a Japanese artist’s cover of Culture Club’s ‘Miss Me Blind’ on a rainy, slightly blustery evening… Odd sounds come from the brown boxes connected to the silver box connected to the black box containing the spinning aluminum disc full of cover songs spit across its surface in tiny pits too small for [...]