...stupid poetry game...

Tables aren’t for this heroine.


Trees build themselves up.


Dangerous Bees?


No more heroes for table tennis


in Bowling Green.


I don't want to be part


of your...





(for Colin)

...outside of the classroom...

the poor poor children

of Virginia

are crying

as nightmares

of coming to class

naked as the day

we came into the world

go out just the same

covered in blood

and the end of innocence

is nobody's salvation

but the damned

and the disturbed.


That man is inherently evil

and animal, territorio

clinging to the last of a kind

has been preached

that man must learn

to be saved through truth

beauty music and knowledge

despite the ease of the error

the laziness of the terrorist

and their affinity to a God


this gunfight is too easy

a poor man's fist

an uzi suicide

a penalty shot


and the kids

will never raise

their hands

again the way

they used to

and the end

of the system

we once knew

will be the end

of all that we

called the process

of education

now that it has

been taken

outside of the classroom

...new season...

welcome

to York

to Jersey

to Hampshire


welcome

to

New Winter

in America


(the kids now have

Winter Intersession

in April)



Welcome

to snowfall

on Easter.


Welcome

to Global

Climate Shifting

Gears of American

Cars


Welcome

to New Winter

in New Jersey


(Goodbye)

...shameless plug...

This is not a poem...but these are mine, sort of...check out my "erasures" at the Wave Poetry website. Try them yourselves. It's a shitload of fun! And, you can actually produce some great poems. My students are working on similar texts as well.

http://erasures.wavepoetry.com/poems.php


-mr

...in a shell...

tonight

and everynight

the turtle is not sure

whether he should come out

and explore for knowledge

or for food, merely for nourishment

of the mind, or body


(Do I apply for the job or for the degree?)

(Do I eat or do I write?)

(Do I sink or do I sink?)

(Do I shed or do I crust?(

(Hardshell or Paperback?)


tomorrow and

the next tomorrow

if the turtle isn't given

room to grow

he simply won't

and he becomes attached

to the feeder fish


(no longer my prey,

they finish my sentences

with symbiotic assonance)


in a shell

turtle or nut?

pencil or window?

fashion or fusion?

Can there be any

smaller being

than the one who can't

see that it's all a trap?


(in a shell in a shell in a shell

am I trapped in a shell?)

...#3...

meadow clever launch

pilots into definition

liquid still quarter

tubes riverdrum

stanzas swelter in

stride my stars

translucent scholars

corpses detonate

throwing dicey limestone

flicked grandstand flavor

meaty treaties fleeting

...a bus parked...

there is a bus

parked in my sinuses

and it shifts

forward and back

left and right

deviated septum

deviant disease

wanting to drill

a hole to let the passangers

out and liquidity

where's my neti pot?

where's my baby snot sucker?

where's the doctor in my network?

I don't live on the island

and the toxins

from the water

surrounding

couldn't burn through the bus

(even in the "Kill").

...shades of potato tycoons...

purple little chip

go away quick

cause I am hungry

and you are purple

and that means

you are organic

and you are organy

have a purple chip

in hopes that

the old yellow one

will wilt away

under Simplot's

uberflag megahill

green with chemy

goodness

thick like hair restoration

and just so astro-

turfy you big lug

nutty bastard

each a chip

and plant a tree

purple chip/green tea

oh forget this

Boise...

...stuck in the shovel...

the last time we talked

it snowed

but this time

the garage door

wouldn't open

and I had to go about it

with a shovel

Victorian Grounds

(the snow blower

stayed warm inside

the stuck door's

windshield)

worried about traction

they felt the slush

of the night's performance

dull but enough

to slow down

the cars and refuse

the drawbridge

the right

to close

because of the disabled

vehicle in

the right

lane

...what it's...

it's finale snow

it's hammer time

it's white chocolate love

it's glacial and spatial

it's going to be gone

it's situational sleet

it's chord-o-roy time

it's galaxies of snow globes

it's turtle tank clean-up

it's delayed school openings

it's libraries closing

it's mom's new foot

it's mom's new foot

it's a tennis court in Dubai

it's you typing up your poems

it's true there is no flu

it's snow and it's new

it's lunch at the Thai/Italian place

it's a big black furry boot

it's tea time

it's Davis Cup reruns

it's all day all Poker

it's getting hot in here

it's frothing a bit in the south

it's cotton-mouth memory cards

it's a 30 Rock episode

it's "happee vallemtimes"

...your sleeping smile...

I love you

good night

you smile like

you do when

you walk

in your sleep

toward the garden

in the castleyard

you sleep with that

smile while I watch

and so want

to make the magic

tale an actual

realm I lose hope

when you lose

your sleeping smile

to the disturbance

of waking

...disappointemnt in the garden...

the poodle

peed

deliberately

to break

the stride

of the

competition


the English

came in second

because

he picked

up the scent

stunting

his stumpy

gate


the French

akin to nothing

but the namesake

didn't make

it close

white

as ghost


but

the imperfect

poodle

pop-pom-ed

and piss-filled


baited

the breeds

and

broke

the leash

because

its butt

was bare


and cold

in the garden

during winter.

...traditionally, an American problem...

disease

spreads from body

to brain

by way of blood

rushing

to the head


the tragedy

is not Shakespearean

nor is it Grecian


it is all American

psychosis and addiction

blame and neglect


defeat at the hands

of the giant clown


his transfatty fry-guys

in three-pie(ce) suits


this not heredity

nor is it fate


it is negligance

at the hands

of the abuser


the ones who have left

her behind

those who have falsely

pledged allegiance


those who have

taken her too far

and left the impossible


task of regaining

solid footing

...emer-gen-C broad (casting system)...

it is incessant

at times

this ache in the inner ear

and the dog whistle

that will forever

take over the command

of all the puppies

in the golden country


for once in our lives

I wish the ringing

would just modify

or pitch bend

to add variety

to the song of the deaf


I am so sorry

we had to go this way


but this is what

we wanted and got


this is a test

this is just

a test

...dog in the next life...

in fact

the postures were that

of a timid hound

a bit scared of the shadows

and the light that created

them how does it feel

to have to hear everything

so acutely as the invisible notes

smell the pies of houses miles away

see the bird in the camo

of the spring dogwood branches

feel the continental ridge

shifting before we shift

taste a grain of sugar

as it were a whole pop


it must be so intense

that one must need to sleep

all day long

...safe bet...

If I would have bet

the balance of my education-

based financial debt

on the outcome of today's games

I'd be scott free

without a bill

or collector in wait



If I would have bet

my alma maters tonight

I would have finally

broke even



If I would have bet

for once

instead of playing it safe

we could get hitched

like the running back

and the cheerleader

and begin our easy life

with our fit as perfect

as theirs



If I would have bet

my life savings

I'd be up zero

but I'd be happy

I placed the bet.




(congrads Boise State and Let's Go Mountaineers!)

...apple a day keeps the _____ away...

good bye

personal crisis (pc)

it has not been fun


you let Enrique know

about my ticket fetish


the tree left fruit

it travelled from Newark

to Memphis and back


and will now

take control over this

will I've lost

or enlist methods


I'd soon forget

like how to compose

myself

...recovery...

when class ends

today

all will be settled

all will be contained

and for a few short

weeks I'll actually

write a poem or two

or twenty


Here's an idea:

...nothing can surprise me...

except for this


and you did it

oh so well

bringing back

the past with doctors

and programmers

computations

and lies to keep

me at bay

(and it worked)


I spent my thirtieth

thinking that I had less

than I should at this point

only to find the wealth

I haven't allowed to exist


(as a poet I'm supposed

to see these things

acknowledge them

because they are beautiful

and I dropped the ball

hard)


you clever clever girl

thank you

for the reconnection

of cut wires


I love you and

you all I love

...thirty...

on the day of the feast

nothing is immaculate

but this sense

that something will be

conceived like a creation

such as a poem or a song

or a life is comforting

and worried that this

might not be so

I am struck

by the intesity

of such doubts


foolishness

(I leave you nothing

but the wake)


instinct

(here we go again)


motive

(I see you standing there

ready for the take)


and all that will become

what they refer to as me

will become the reference

in itself