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Posts Tagged ‘dverse’

How Soon the Sound

May 22, 2017 5 comments

How soon the sound turns to gibberish, the
way form follows meaning into blind alleys. Listen:

I just got through playing Bach suites on
the wrong instrument for them, the wrong way,
most likely, but as it was it was meaningful,
as it was.

 

Written in response to a dVerse prompt: write a quadrille, using the word sound.

Categories: Prompts Tags: , ,

Ulysses S. Grant

January 16, 2014 4 comments

I rise only to say that I do not intend to say anything.
– Ulysses S. Grant

I wrote as I did
in a spare craftsman style
knowing men died
the entire time I wrote
the entire time they read.

A man could be shot
while hacking though
the thicket of words
created by some generals
and die before he could act.

Knowing, then,
I wrote to dying men
and sometimes sent my dispatches
back to the living world
I demanded clarity of myself.

Categories: Debugging Tags: , ,

Sonnet: The View from the False Door

January 11, 2014 9 comments

There is little to be
seen outside my door
which doesn’t open. I see
a shrub, wooden fence, and four

houses ranged close, paranoid
in their huddled, gap-toothed
yards with their backs avoid-
ing contact with me. Truth

to tell, we all avoid this backyard
meeting. Privacy fences are tall
sentries against each other’s hard
gazes from kitchen blinds that fall.

We meet each other in the way
we wave politely at the end of day.

Not my best effort, but it is an English sonnet, and I wrote it in response to this dVerse prompt.

Categories: Debugging, Prompts Tags: , ,

140 leaves 137

January 10, 2014 6 comments

 

A response to a dVerse Prompt. Go make your own!

Categories: Debugging, Prompts Tags: , , ,

Entanglement

September 18, 2013 5 comments

for the woman I saw this morning on the sidewalk outside a Planet Fitness, wearing jorts, drinking coffee out of a to-go cup, and smoking a cigarette.

I’ll begin by admitting
that my entire train of thought this morning
as I worked my way through elliptical,
lower body, and arms
which is where I saw you,
as I was resting between sets
seated at a machine
which is a clear violation of protocol
at all the many gyms I’ve been a member of

may be based on fallacy. You may
have looked through the glass at us
and thought haha losers in which case
you are philosophically miles ahead
of this chautauqua

but you looked so ill at ease
and seemed to be avoiding
the collective plate-glass glare
of twenty or thirty people
who have the time and energy
to work out before they go to work

and you may have felt
that we were judging you
but Martha, if I may call you that
on the million-to-one chance
that’s your name

Planet Fitness is a Judgement Free Zone
or so the advertisements say
and they have no more reason to lie
than any of the other signs
at the aging shopping center
where we work out or
could get a EASY PAYDAY LOAN
or enjoy a FARM FRESH BREAKFAST
at a diner which sits next to
the Family Drug Store Where the Customer Comes First
and down at the end,
which is what I suspect you were waiting for,
having bought foam cup coffee at the diner
and perhaps the cigarettes at the Wholesale Tobacco Outlet
there is the Independent Auto Company
which has a GOOD MECHANIC ON DUTY.

And I hope he had good news for you
or at least was truthful if he said
If you was my mamma I wouldn’t let you leave here with them brakes.

Because honestly Wilma, or whoever you are,
we’re all caught in a web of limited ways and means,
and we choose from the choices we have.
After you left I showered, dressed, and went to my office,
feeling a little virtuous and smug, like I’d gotten ahead of something.

My first call when I got there was to Verizon,
and it took me two hours to undo everything
they’d done to my account the day before.

After a Year of Drought

July 27, 2013 9 comments

We went to my friend’s lake house
hoping the water was still up to the dock.
It was, but mud ran alongside the pilings,
made it look like a construction site,
with bottles, cans, and one boot
of a sort fashionable among young girls
in 2003.

Or as if the land was creeping back
to reclaim its own, after
the Hydroelectric Act of 1939
or whatever thing the legislature enacted
between dime-cigar bets and happy girls

flooded the land between two counties
mocking that part of creation where
dry land divided the waters and it was good

but it was also good to get out
on a boat and see the pine trees whizz by
like a flooded out interstate,
or Venice writ large and southern-style.

My friend pointed out trees
hanging on to dry land
roots leached out of the water
like receding gums,
or an uprising.

written in response to a dVerse prompt.

Categories: Prompts Tags: , , , , ,

The Dream of Tartness

July 13, 2013 10 comments

Often after a trauma
there is the mundane revery
if I could only
mine was a dream of an unbearable tartness
in a drink of volcanic coldness
I sipped metallic hospital crushed ice water
tried not to vomit up the simplest of soups

normally there is the gift of not desiring
the smell of nausea clings to things
that can’t be kept down but

I conjured up something like limeade
as a nuclear bomb is something like a firecracker
while the tubes of lukewarm glucose, morphine
and hot piss kept me alive.

written in response to a dVerse prompt