Category: Poetry
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Reined In
Reining in the rebels rained in by all the rubble, like rabbits wrapped in rubber ribbons, trapped and troubled, and constantly constrained, defamed, and unconstructively detained. Who mustn’t muster up their fairly flustered, flubbing fibs, but for reasons unbeknownst and unannounced and mispronounced, should simply stop. Should settle in. Behave like bees, be busy being,…
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Brown Rabbit
A raggedy brown rabbit came to me and whispered a tiny truth. “I love you,” she said. “And that should be enough.” I keep her hidden in a tiny box now, with air holes and vegetables and everything a rabbit needs. She lives underneath my day job, where I smile and learn from people who…
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Stalemate (Sonnet)
Two honest thinkers engage in simple discourse. Truth be told, both hearts pitted and hollow, though each knows that passion strikes discord and so refrains; the civil path to follow. Discussion states desires to be swallowed in white and black, with nothing to distort– no frantic fits of anger, fears, and sorrow to sway the…
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A Terse Seafarer’s Verse
(A poem using only the left side of the keyboard! Plus punctuation.) Ever at sea, we sweat, swear. Savage, as ravaged seafarers we are. Steadfast at greed, we swagger, carefree, draw daggers as fast as a westward breeze. Grave faces scarred, a tad fevered at best, a starved, battered crew, few feet at rest as…
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Hydrofracking
(Challenged to use the following words, in some form: graffiti, inject, Jonah, predict, scrape, and swarm.) The tanker trucks stack up along the pipeline with eager drills and empty tanks to fill, come to inject another million gallons of water, sand and chemicals down the well, which several thousand feet below the surface is pressurized…
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Forgotten
There is no record of this. No subject to do anything to any object. No perspective to be had of any aspect. This like so many other nervous impulses. There is absence of any substance of any notion. Forget with no qualifier and without pause.
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On Writing
To write defies our very nature, the little that we’ve left to lose– to think in dying words that never manifest, that echo once and suffocate before we ever had the chance to choose them. Solace lies in constant ambiguity, the freedom to have never been, and thus to feel at ease to take the…
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Already Been Cultured
(continuation of “Alpha Beta Can’t Don’t Eat Food Gross”) Now, old people! Quick: retire! Sail to unending vacations where xenophiles year-round, zillions, all boisterously congregate, dining, eating foreign gourmet, hand in jangles; Killjoy locals mercifully not obstructing perfection.
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Alpha Beta Can’t Don’t Eat Food Gross
Albeit barely conceivable, don’t ever forget Grandma’s helpful input: Just keep’ta lean meat. Never order poor quality roastbeef; shit tastes utterly vile with Xanax. Your zen aura burns calories digesting extra fat. Good heavens, I’d Just keep’ta lean meat.
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Dactylic Robots
Rickety rigs of mechanical gibs, turningguinea pigs out with astounding proficiency,erkity, erkity, erkity, erkity,cramming us in to improve our efficiency. Fixing the world up by trial and error, theyline us all up to reprocess our brains, so wethink very little and strive to obey. Look at us, marching like zombies in queues, waitingpatiently as we…