First drafts of poetry, as well as commentary on poems, poets and poetry-related randomonia.
A Change of Direction I. North When you traded in the fading sports car for the used station wagon, there were no regrets, simply an acknowledgement of time and place shifting, a welcome change of direction. [redacted due to publication.]
Old New York Love Story I like the vibe in this place The bartender, my mother-in-law if she were a bartender, dresses for the crowd in a shiny black bustier and tight black polyester capris long copper-dyed hair pulled back into a poofy ponytail she flirts like Pollock attacking a canvas, seemingly random until the end of the night when she counts her tips her artistic genius revealed. She's an undegreed psychiatrist dispensing advice and self-medication ethical enough to ensure no one overdoses, savvy enough to ensure their return. She sings along to Shakira hips shimmying to 50 Cent, her…
[Going through the archives trying to figure out what to read tomorrow at the Nuyorican and I came across this little ditty, a typically belligerent, sophomoric effort from that crazy Summer of 1998! Backstory here.] Why I Slam... Hi my name is Guy and I’m not an alcoholic I just drink a lot. Can you spare some change? Drinking is an expensive habit that poetry just doesn’t support begging the question...Why? Why poetry? I pondered over this one humid summer night halfway through my second draft of a cold pint of inspiration reflecting on that first poem way back when…
Mariah @ the Dive Bar When I promised tolove you foreverand ever, long timelike no one elseand assorted otherexaggerations...I lied.I was drunk.So were youof course—it's what we do—so this should be a mootpoint but sober nowI feel the need to clarifysome things.That nightMariah playing onthe jukebox in thatdive bar we bothlove a bit too muchwe bought intothe lyrics believingwe did, in fact,belong together.We probably definitelymost likely don't butdamn if she didn't make itseem possible, especiallywhen the songchangedand you lip-synchedthe chorus...for a split secondI believed I just mightalways be your baby.In the harsh light of daywe're completely totallyutterly wrongfor each other…
Truth is an Olympic Gymnast"A lie told often enough becomes the truth."LeninI believe in truthraw, unvarnishedhurt your feelings, if necessaryTRUTH.The more I have to losethe more truthfulI tend to be.I'm self-destructive that way.So, sometimes…I lie.Little white liesLies of omissionOutright whoppers intended toburn the house down.I'm whimsical that way.I believe in telling the truth to your friendsand lying to your enemiesas long as you're surewho's who.Until then,lie to everybody.Flagrantly, extravagantly,Often....call them poemsand they will love you for it.I believe in truth, liesand avoiding the videotapewhich never liesunless it's been edited.I believe the moon landing was stagedand aliens have been running the…
First draft here, this is the edited version I read on the open mic last night. Felt like a total newbie -- it's not at all like riding a bike! -- but it was very satisfying once I stepped off the stage. I wouldn't call it a comeback, necessarily, but it certainly won't be the last time. BITTERSWEET REUNION C-130 rollin down the strip Airborne Daddy gonna take a little trip Mission top secret Destination unknown He don't know if he's ever coming home...An old Army buddy emailed meout of the blue a few weeks ago.Found me on the Internetamongst…
BITTERSWEET REUNIONAn old Army buddy emailed meout of the blue a few weeks ago.Found me on the Internetamongst too many "friends" I barely knowand wouldn't take a bullet for.Fills me inon the guys we used to run with,some in, some out,some completely off the grid,some names I recall,and some don't ring a bell at all.Puts me in touchwith another buddy,--also out, married with kids--and I'm surprised to hearthat everyone's alive,and for a split secondhave this whitewashed flashbackand I miss the life.We were all old enoughto have enlisted with clear eyes,young enough to believewe were invincible.More practical than patrioticwe terrorized the…