Thursday, April 23, 2015

NaPoWriMo Draft

Country Bullshit Childhood

written after hearing off-mic news announcers make fun of some people I could know

for Joe and Kim

Raccoons in the backyard tipping over
the garbage like homeless fat men,

the dance of dandelion pollen
blowing over the hayfields,

riding a dirt road and killing
a woodchuck with a single shot

from a .22. Roaming the crabapple
orchard and making hand cannons

from soft lead pipe and firecrackers.
Jumping from the big beam into a pile

of hay. Shovelling out the drop. Getting
paid a dollar a day during haying season

working for a cheap-ass farmer. Having
your brother give you some of his pay

to make up for it. Sitting around a picnic
table playing euchre while the bats flit

and the bug zapper keeps its own time.
Swimming across the piss-warm water

of a farm pond at midnight. Showering off
the algae later on. Listening to the wind

rattle the plastic tacked over the broken
window. Riding a car hood dragged by

an ATV over the snowy fields at thirty miles
an hour. Playing paper dolls and listening

to Elvis or Donna Fargo's Funny Face
on the record player. Staying up till 4 AM

to watch the Olympic heavyweights fight:
Tyrell Biggs, Francisco Damiano, the great

Teofilo Stevenson who never fought because
of the boycott. Watching and wondering why

a family friend (name not given to protect
the guilty and well, weird) would pull a fake tittie

out of his pocket to show a 12-year-old. He
might have been drinking some of the elder-

berry and dandelion wine we kept in the cellar.
Stealing porn from wherever I could find it.
Learning the burn from Southern Comfort.
At 8 years old, dancing with my sister at

the Big Elm Fire Department hall at her
wedding. Hovering around the keg at my

brother's wedding several years later. Country bullshit
my ass. Some people live this life, dickheads.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Another NaPo Draft

And this one is really drafty. Somehow I'm invoking God in these last few poems, and I don't normally think in those terms, because I'll wither if I do. Anyway.


Monday, April 13, 2015

Another NaPo Sample Draft

Jesus in the Ghost Room Talks with the Father

Jesus fills the cancer room with stuttering
ghosts. It's something about salvation;


Sunday, April 5, 2015

NaPo 2015 Sample Poem

I've decided not to post all my NaPo poems here, just some. Especially since folks have shown interest in publishing some of them later on I feel like I should just make them disappear from here. Anyway, here for a couple days at least:

This Far

Just once I'd like to successfully
Piss my name into a snow bank

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

First Poem for NaPo 2015


I've not much to say about fire,
not much more than will appear. . .

This poem appears courtesy of Kurt Nimmo at Busted Dharma.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Draft December 7th


We're sitting on the bole of a tall maple
looking for squirrels to bark. You call

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Draft Dream Poem #3

Dream Poem #3

High on Tower Hill I walked down
what seemed to be a logging road
which petered out into a deer path.