Monday, April 9, 2012

American sentence

American sentence for Poetry Thursday. Hot sun, pouring concrete; bugs to work out.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Le Tour de Noir

Le Tour de Noir


Blackwood drives through the rain tonight;
Unregulated
Traffic lines disappear on the wet tarmac.

He revels in his wealth,
In his dominion
as stoplights toss
rubies and emeralds at his windshield.

Diamonds, diamonds
Paving his path
The oncoming headlights.

Her wedding ring
Blue neon pawnshop
An eye full of sapphires
Mind full of coal

Blackwood is the king of the world.

His driver’s seat a throne
No
Long
Forgotten
King of old
Ever had

six-way power position climate zone comfort control vibrating massage lumbar adjustment.

Heavy weighs Blackwood’s head
he surveys his passenger seat empire.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Viva Cannon Fodder

Viva Cannon Fodder

Underwood drinks cold coffee and browses his notes
Margins full of restless doodles, “the art of meetings”.

The day out his window is unseasonal, too hot,
like the sun from a month in the future.

A reminder chimes from his desktop,
And a few seconds later from his phone.

His clock no longer ticks in seconds;
It chimes with obligations.

Checks his calendar. Tomorrow is wall to wall.
Green and pink rectangles, a ledger of his time.

From the doctor to the technician, prescriptions,
a lawyer will call, someone from the home will visit.

A ten-peso coin balances on edge beside a cable
Some bent cards, a name tag, an empty toner.

Change from a cantina just over the border
It could fall either way.

Fat man reads about Barcelona (sestina)

Local reading series at Community High School (a local private arts and academics school)

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Traffic Report


Traffic Report    



1.      1.  Morning

Underwood commutes past a deer dead
in the median. It still has the shape of a deer,

and he still has the shape of Underwood.
What are your goals for this quarter?

Eat well, avoid coyotes, maybe get laid,
and what about you, Buck?

Underwood laughs as the light turns green,
and the river of traffic surges from the floodgate.

2.     2.  Afternoon

The deer still on the grass
Underwood still in his car,

buzzards hop about in consultation
sleek and reeking in black suits and wingtips,

Synergrizing the carcass.







Underwood takes a sick day

Underwood takes a sick day


And what of you, Underwood
What do you have to add?

A quip, or a day of your life
Spent in an expensive chair?

Results of the test are available
Before you can put your clothes back on.

We have shipping containers full*
Of you, Underwood.

Please present your card.

Spring Training

Spring Training

Somewhere in the middle of Virginia,
night fell like tequila panties,
not with a whimper, nor a bang,
but with the sorority-girl WOOHOO
of the train whistle.

NaPoWriMo #1

Laundry can wait


When you have to dig a grave
every shovel of dirt weighs
as much as you can bear. 

When you have to lower a good dog
into the ground, past the severed roots
and overturned stones,

you remember where you bought
the green blanket, the bright white
lights of the store, the tatter of fluff

When it wore out enough to give
to the dog. The purple memory
Of the syringe in the veterinarian’s kind hand

then the returning of dirt to the hole
where sweat and tears fail
to wash the shovel clean.