one moment, I was driving
the next, I was on the ground
staring up at the cloaked figure
“I’m not ready yet,” I say
“that’s death,” says the figure
Poetry
I’m working on writing a thousand poems. I started in April 2015.
Poem #307
pure evil
but not in the typical way
smiles and is polite
compliments and is fun
but makes small jabs
that wear you down
over years
slow and unseen
until you snap
Poem #306
painting askew
I fix
feelings off
I fix
machine broken
I fix
Poem #305
failed plans
rent checks
impromptu outing
fun texting
cat petting
warm laundry
good night
Poem #304
incessant giggles
gleeful dances
yummy eats
friendship!
Poem #303
I see a rabbit hopping past me
I say to the rabbit:
“where are you going?”
he says to me:
“where do you think I’m going?”
I say to the rabbit:
“I do not know.”
he says to me:
“why do you want to know?”
I say to the rabbit:
“I do not know.”
he says to me:
“then why even ask?”
he hops away
Poem #302
window to outside
blocked by blinds
protect what’s inside
Poem #301
ghostly blue from the heater
and unnatural green from devices
no will to move but still move
misery begets fairly good work
orange street light through blinds
everything is so dark and colorful
Poem #300
in a dark room
arm resting on a cat
the heater turns on
writing like mad
then lying motionless
Poem #299
small bruise on my arm
pain in my gut
not happy
not productive
alone and sad