in progress

the living room wall
the backyard fence
on the south side
simple attempts
at attention
this report
relayed via residue
letter and note
wars
large black shapes
of fur and fury
rights and refusal
remission reminiscing
2am hospital discharge
to number 44
the small damping
down
low compression
and compensation
memories moving
mist like in
this moment
making movies
out of a past
that
like everything else
remains
in progress

comment, like, prescribe

the mundanity of modernity
has misled us into
a metric uneven and deceiving
catching the comments
hoping to hold a connection
looking for symbols
badges and notifications
working the refresh
regretful
when nothing new
denotes acceptance
wandering across the globe
in seconds
wondering
how do you touch another
person
how do you express
anything
without recrimination
without understanding
without the experience
without the nuance
of faces, and eyes, and cheeks, and smiles
without the lean in
or away
what dystopian rhythm do we
dance to
here in our
private public
confused into apathy
losing our empathy
why aren’t they into me?

Many years ago I helped with the promotion, filming, and editing, of a nice poetry event called Rainy Day in Seattle. Here are a couple of the ideas for a flyer I just found. I cannot remember for the life of me if either was used. #poetry #collage #LiteraryUnderground

My wife loves sleeping so I made her a little Christmas gift and hung it at the end of the hall. Gotta remind the kids to be quiet!

Following on from talk about Michele’s book cover I wanted to share an alternate cover for my own book. I went searching old copyright free pulp mags and comics to find something i could riff on. Maybe better than what I ended up with. #BookCovers Check it out at failingtofall.com

Making a book Cover - Michele McDannold Lovely little post about creating the book cover for her collection of poems Stealing the Midnight from a Handful of Days. I had a small hand in creating said cover. You can purchase the book, which I highly recommend, over at Roadside press. #poetry#publish

i hope this email never finds you

i hope you are outside its grasp
i hope you are outside
walking in the woods
away from this
toward something else
breaking the chain
missing the message
and finding meaning
no longer concerned
with warranty opportunities
updated information
request confirmation
last chance deals
curated collections
misdirecting headlines
sad news about
a loved one
less known than loved
all wrapped
in a daily digest
bound by electrons
and cuddled under
an icon
with a
red badge glaring

romantic proclamations of affirmation

these are things
i say to you
or try to
on a regular basis
i hear they are important
and i was raised to
pay attention
to everything as if
it were important
lest i get a smack
about the head

frustration
is easy to
come by
like pennies on
a dresser
ever present and
unsurprising

less common

is cool air coming
in the windows
as we glide along
the small town road
listening to chet
or coleman
or duke
or ella
the point is
the radio sings
the evening is before us
and my heart is full
and my head is working

working out all the wonderful
things you are and ways
you affect me
i consider myself a dab hand
at turning a phrase
but
the volkswagen keeps
us close and
the closeness is driving
me crazy
i cannot think in a line
down the straight street
i am jumping and
swerving to the music
of the radio and our
love

i want to pour it
out of me
cover you in my
happiness
with clever phrases
playfully joined
hinting at things
hidden to most

all i manage is to say
is
“romantic proclamations of affirmation!”
in a voice wholly too loud
and oddly enthusiastic
you respond by saying
“don’t yell at me”
but
you don’t smack me
about the head

6:12 am

the light sits
golden on
the green
edges
of the trees
pasted onto
a pale
blue sky
laying quiet
next to you
hearing
the blackbirds
roaming as
they
call and cry

the town is
rousing to
the morning
evidenced with
the sounds
listening like
a lawyer
i count
the number
rising
of cars
going by

Your soft snore
A distraction
Countered by
The contoured comfort
Of your warm skin
Where my fingers
Trace Patterns
Following your form
Living lifetimes
In these moments
Before the day
Begins