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Showing posts from January, 2008

A List of Literature

I started this blog to nudge myself to write more, and over the past week or so, I've been reading a lot but writing very little. But then I was like, "Remember the blog!" and worked on this poem, which also owes something to the assignment I'm writing up for my poetry class for next week on using listing and/or repetition in poems. Literature All over our floor— paperbacks from thrift stores, hardbacks from libraries. Debit card receipts, coupons for medium pizzas. A plea to save polar bears with canvas grocery sacks. I’ll write them a check.

Park at the Park at Your Own Risk

I may do a whole series of poems comprised of things I've seen through the windshield of my car... (Or maybe I won't. Who knows?) Warning: High Car Prowl Area By the lake in the city park watch for suspicious activity, low clouds, gray skies, gray everywhere, more accurately, because of the parking lot and how the lake reflects weather, pavement, feathers of the bodies of migrating geese.

Rainy Day at Green Lake

Here's a poem from some notes I made earlier in the week while I sat in the car beside Green Lake, having an apple and cheese and watching some all-weather exercisers. The last line I'd say is kind of a tip of the hat to my grandma. Joggers Their raingear reflects headlights and wicks moisture away from their bodies. They follow yellow arrows to miss bikes and rollerblades, but nobody’s on wheels today but babies, strollers covered in plastic like hairdos of careful ladies.

If I'd Thrown a Holiday Party

Well, I didn't throw a party, but I reflected on parties past. I did, however, need to solve the mystery expressed in the last two lines; luckily I was able to solve it quickly! Party’s Over Napkins, crumbs, toothpicks, plastic wrap, coffee cups, dessert forks, and more, unfortunately, than a few tiny flies, from the amaryllis or maybe the oranges.

On the Flooded Highway

This is one of the poems I've been working on regarding the bad weather and flooding from early December 2007. Macramé Thick threads of headlights in the north- and southbound lanes can’t stop the river pulling loose— a million knots give way, dirt, branches, leaves and water all over the place.