gregory & the hawk at the church
November 16, 2008
in a small
chapel with
elaborate wood
carvings we
listened to the singer
who drank beer
and rambled
between songs.
i closed my
eyes held your
hand lost myself
in the vocals
finding God more
in this than in the
elaborately carved
wooden chapel.
haiku
November 15, 2008
minute ripples
in the sidewalk’s puddles
from this week-long drizzle.
bass, tone, tone, bass, slap
November 11, 2008
bass, tone, tone, bass, slap
bass, tone, tone, bass, slap
i’ve got the answer
it’s in these red palms
finding the rhythm
on this taut goat skin
bass, tone, tone, bass, slap
bass, tone, tone, bass, slap
i’ve got the answer
it’s in the night air
keeping the downbeat
in this room upstairs
bass, tone, tone, bass, slap
bass, tone, tone, bass, slap
i’ve got the answer
it can’t be spoken
but if you listen
i think you’ll get it
tone, tone, tone slap, slap bass, bass
i’d be a novelist
November 8, 2008
if i had a
longer
attention
span
and could
stand my
characters
beyond
two pages
or
maintained
interest in
the plot
beyond
the exposition
or could
write
more than three
words per line
i’d be a
novelist
and you’d read
my novels
keep them
at eye level
on your shelves
quote lines to
seem erudite
recommend them
to friends
too bad
the distance
between
IF and your
shelves
has already
defeated me.
democracy and starbucks
November 4, 2008
if i were a true
anarchist i’d make
some hideous connection
to comment on
our culture causing you
to recoil in disgust at
the systems you’ve
bought into
but
i’ve come
to the conclusion
i’d rather call it quits
and give up coffee, democracy,
and comments about either
altogether.
fall back
November 2, 2008
give me an extra
hour two cups of
coffee and stand back
i transform into
a domestic superhero
vanquishing tasks
that have been
delayed for weeks
i slept in
mowed the lawn
cleaned the house
washed both cars
bought groceries
and it’s only 3:30pm
give me one more
hour and the world
would be mine
(or at least there’d
be a clean toilet).
the leaves turned
October 29, 2008
when i turned
my back.
seasons
October 26, 2008
i would like to retreat
like a hibernating bear:
“fuck winter.
wake me when it’s over.”
first frost
October 22, 2008
our words drifted from
our mouths in white puffs of smoke–
contrails at ground level.
this asphyxiated night sky
October 20, 2008
every night there seems
one less star
in this
asphyxiated
nig
ht
s
k
y
.
tanka
October 19, 2008
putting on my shirt
the scent of last night lingers
smoke from the fire pit
around which we all gathered
revealing our thoughts and lives.
walking home
October 16, 2008
a gust of
wind sets the
leaves above
rustling while below
the syncopated
scrape of
concrete.
haiku
October 13, 2008
a cloud of
insects drift and shimmer–
another plane overhead.
flashlights in hand
October 12, 2008
we passed through
the sodden door
falling off its hinges
in the dead of night
to discover reels of
film the images
indecipherable.
el nido
October 7, 2008
calm radiates
from these cliffs standing like
gods
holding in a crescent the
rhythmic whispers of
the south china sea
and the combination
of clouds tinged the color
of lips kissing the horizon
and your form supine sleeping
and slipping into this setting
leaves me
as silent as the land
we cannot see.
Roger Mugs
rcribay
Ned
timsaslacker
joshuagrace
Julio Chapluzki
freakynewchild
Poeta Maximus
David X. Hugo
