these words are slow horses
pulling a chariot
with broken wheels
an abundance of syllables
roll against my teeth
yet little remains
to drive the pen
across paper
floating and leaving no trace
these words are slow horses
pulling a chariot
with broken wheels
an abundance of syllables
roll against my teeth
yet little remains
to drive the pen
across paper
anything when
with the little now
a time to pocket the wind
like a watch
the wind up blowing
a hole in the pocket
of the little now
a pitcher’s blackened pitch
and the smallest wrist
turning
white and perfect
anything when
when now not
like a watch
or being watched
—–
Been reading e e cummings. Seriously, there is no poem better than this one:
i carry your heart with me. I would post this one, but it is still under copyright. So go ahead and click over.
I don’t think I’ve ever just written a plain old post on this blog.
Well, there’s a first time for everything. First off, today’s poem was somehow inspired by reading the poem here and by following the link to her “inspiration.” I don’t know how inspiration works. If i ever figure it out, I’m going to stop writing and start teaching overpriced workshops.
Secondly, I have had three of my poems accepted for publication in the upcoming issue of Pomona Valley Review (PVR). The current issue is PVR8. PVR9 should be available at the end of July. One of those poems is on this site. I’m going to remove it for a while and replace it with a link to the magazine. The other two were written either before I started publishing a poem a day here or somehow didn’t make it on.
I want to thank my wife Lisa for always giving me time to write, and my friend Erica who continues to encourage me to submit my work when I usually don’t see the point.