Tag Archives: poem


Making fun of old people now gives me the right to make fun of young people later.

National Poetry Month, Day 30 – the end

Here is a taste of what I’ll be up to now that poetry month is over. Thanks for reading the past month, it’s been fun.



the pieces come from different places you know

but right now we’ll just pause on one

and let it breathe

because this one deserves forgiveness.

give four people the same photograph of this street

and ask them to crop the image any way they’d like.

take them[1] and immediately put them in an envelope.[2]

for now we’ll consider this collecting evidence,

but remind me about it later

because it won’t mean anything

until we make it unfamiliar.

[1] but avoid folding them and cutting them into snowflakes. The point is not that each image is unique, but that the choice meant something different to them than it did to you.

[2] This is how I want you to think about possibility.

National Poetry Month, Day 29

We were overdressed
in the shower,
giggling at the blood
stains on our jackets.
*Two hours before
I said you had a choice
to accept the situation
and enjoy yourself
or whine about your hair.
**I spent ten minutes
trying to assign you
the significance
of this image, but
I’ll just accept it
and say thank you.

*Unsatisfying ending
**Sentimental ending

National Poetry Month, Day 28

We’ll leave it at this for now
and what it looks like tomorrow
after we’ve got a little sleep
behind these screen-burned eyes.

National Poetry Month, Day 27

I’m thinking about empty threats
and how many times I’d have to use them
as we surveyed the northern border
thirty-three feet at a time
just because some king felt
like drawing a line.

Speaking of lines, I read a poem
on some website today, found it
thanks to StumbleUpon.
There were three on the page,
I dug the first one and got bored

But that’s beside the point,
which was the comments section
and some guy lambasting the poet
for writing banal sentences
with arbitrary line
breaks and calling them sentences.

It’ll be days before I can get that comment out of my head.

National Poetry Month, Day 26

“Days Without a Serious Accident”
on Highway 2
sign stood at 3 today.

my girlfriend
gave a witness report
to some ridiculous
accident involving
a car going the second way
on a one way street.

This was all at dinner,
while we contemplated
silverware in a soda
and farting out our mouths.

National Poetry Month, 25 – Live: Collecting Thoughts Through the Day

If you catch this blog early in the afternoon today, you’ll get to see this post evolve. I want to see what liveblogging a poem throughout the day is like. I’m just going to write little snippets as they occur to me.


I’ve always thought of a Tea Party
as a place where children go
to make things up
and learn how to gossip.


The greatest thing
— by far —
that imperialism
ever gave the planet
was Freddie Mercury.


Am I crazy to think
there’s money to be made
selling spammers access
to your accounts
in half-hour increments?


A woman wanted for stealing
a styrofoam banana
from a Wisconsin gas station
while wearing a gorilla suit
will not be charged.


While washing the dishes
the coffee mug asked me
“What if the Hokey Pokey
really is what it’s all about?”

I’m okay with that.


I had to stop myself
from making faces
at what this chick was
doing to her sandwich.


an object
can be

the thought
of which
whelms me.