Poems April 2021

April 24

Let’s sing something dumb
About love and sex and being everything

To some someone
About tomorrow and forever and it doesn’t mean a thing
About tomorrow and forever and it doesn’t mean a thing
About tomorrow and forever and it doesn’t mean a thing

April 24, 2021

April 23

The talkative 7 year old has tired me out

Constant questions that he’s asked before, and for which I have no answers.

Constant comments and observations about everything.

And funny, cute, even seductive. I mean, how can ya not give the kid an ear?

He doesn’t like this bit of writing. Fuck him. I’ll post it anyway.

April 23, 2021

April 22

Why not speak in code? So many ways to say so little.

A bottle wrapped in a bag results in a bag shaped like a bottle. All the words make clear the shape of what isn’t be talked about.

I’m trying to say nothing these days, so I can glide invisibly, and weave my way through, a mackerel in shark water.

April 22, 2021

April 21

Your past is clean garbage
We can be rag pickers and pull interesting things out of it
The day 40 Aprils ago that put such a twist in your circuitry
That woman at the car wash
The time a firefly landed on the tip of your nose
Why you love pancakes

We can pick your garbage
But stay the hell out of mine.

April 21, 2021

April 20

At his end he was far down his personal hill.

The struggle for hope and something decent takes a toll, as dreams dry up and mistakes pile up. Crying to no one but yourself in the kitchen. How to get through ‘til bedtime.

Remind us of our duty, which is serve and protect. To recognize what is right, kind and merciful, and then do exactly that, regardless of what came before or comes after.

There are ever hills to climb.

April 20, 2021

April 19

There is a clock in here

It’s ticking again

It could be a bomb I fear

Counting from ten

When it’s zero

We’ll either wake up or explode

Ah! Just three seconds left

So soon we’ll know…

April 19, 2021

April 18

The news is presented by handsome people. But the news is ugly. And so often sad.

Who would sniff a flower that looks like shit but smells of newly remembered old love?

It’s not the flowers. It’s the nature of the ground and the gardener.

April 18, 2021

April 16

Dangerous country you shouldn’t be in it again you were in it before and it did you no good and now you’re back and looking for that lost house you left your things in only now it’s more hidden than it was and the woods crawl with teeth and claws

“People die easier than some promises and some dreams”

That’s what’s on the sign post that’s miles behind you now

April 16, 2021

April 15

Where do you go when it rains?

Do you find a nook somewhere, a branch, an overhang?
Are you by yourself or with others?
Do you count the minutes, and is it excruciating?

I’ll bet you merely sit somewhere, and wait, and watch, and the rain
goes as it comes
Barely noticed, just a thing that happens when it happens

It’s over now—you get a drink or take a bath
A puddle is good enough

I stand outside, looking for you
Looking for the simplicity of you

Everything rains on me
I wish I could wait, and watch
But what I see is the passing of the time that is left
And the water that spoils it

April 15, 2021

April 14

I was enough
Was
Was was was

The younger me, blind and ignorant in the moment, was sufficient. Generous. Transcendent. Charming.

Today I’m less
Less

Less is not more

I’ve shrunk against your yardstick
And you know it
And measure me every chance you get

Between what I am and what I’m not is the problem

It’s never the measuring, is it?

April 14, 2021
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