Monthly Archives: August 2017

How I Forgot to Write Poetry

I don’t know what words mean too tired to write poems.   You work! Work is easy, hardly matters.   Don’t remember words noticing length of lines.   Notice shapes in fire, cannot smell smoke genetic disposition e-n-e in the … Continue reading

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The Challenge

Poem, home, cardboard box. Miami, nights aren’t too cold Though a few February nights air nears freezing as do I.   A dirty blanket flecked with waste, vomit, spilled food, dirt, grease from the ground sturdy box mashed in places, … Continue reading

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Cottonmouth Boy

Hershey kiss tattoos up both arms, eats cowboy bread, hums a bar of Red River Valley before losing the tune,   then says “red lights are just lights that used to be yellow.”   He has no bars around his … Continue reading

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