It’s no longer accurate to call him a zygote,because he is, after all, a 16 year old boy, but “Zygote, 17 Years Later, Goes to RockShow with His Dad,” I thought, was a funny title for a poem. For all intents and purposes, and oddly, given that the parents who broughthim into the world areContinue reading “#418: Zygote, 17 Years Later, Goes to Rock Show with His Dad–a Sonnet on April 13, 2022”
Monthly Archives: April 2022
#417: A Poem About a Very Small Thing on April 12, 2022
What’s the smallest thing I know?I know there are things called quarks, but I don’t know them from atom. Apparently (and I didn’t know this either), nine years ago a photograph was takenof an atom’s shadow. As photographs go,it’s not very good, unless you’re into that kind of thing. With the naked eyeI’ve seen aContinue reading “#417: A Poem About a Very Small Thing on April 12, 2022”
#416: A Poem About a Very Big Thing on April 11, 2022
What’s the biggest thing I know?If we’re speaking about the things around the house, well, then, the planet Earth is the biggest thing. There’s nothing bigger on top of it–even the largest animal, the most massive fungus, the most enormous crater, the tallest building–none of these things are as big as the thingon which theyContinue reading “#416: A Poem About a Very Big Thing on April 11, 2022”
#415: A Snow Day in April: A Casual Poem on April 11, 2022
I live in a neighborhoodtypically referred to as a banana belt. Yes, we haveno bananas, but it’s sometimeswarm here when it’s cold everywhere else. It’s alsoApril in the Pacific Northwest, a month during which, in my entirelifetime, I do not remember a single day of snow. It snowed last night and closed our school districtdownContinue reading “#415: A Snow Day in April: A Casual Poem on April 11, 2022”
#414: Love Poem for My School, April 10, 2022
I’ve spent 37 yearsof my life within your walls. I grew up there, my teenage brain nourished, my creativityencouraged–flourished.That bedrock of careplanted seedsthat would germinateinto a course of study, a search for vocationthat would bring meback inside this campusfor a career. As I evolved, so did your walls, shifting, growing, moving into newspaces, to suchContinue reading “#414: Love Poem for My School, April 10, 2022”
#413: A Nonet for Wet Leg on April 9, 2022
I listened this morning to the newWet Leg album. Their debut streamedinto the kitchen nook, whereI ate eggs on toast, drankcoffee, took my pills. What did I think? Irresist-ablygood.
#412: A Poem from Taylor Mali’s Metaphor Dice on April 8, 2022
My soul is an unruly wasteland,which is to say that it’s always in trouble,always digging through the wreckage, always searching for greener pastures,unsatisfied, hungry, desperately reachingfor a mirage ofcool, clear water. A Note on Today’s Poem: The assignment from Napowrimo today was to write an alter-ego poem. I passed on that particular prompt in favor ofContinue reading “#412: A Poem from Taylor Mali’s Metaphor Dice on April 8, 2022”
#411: A Poem of Forgetfulness on April 7, 2022
Three different spoonscame out of the silverware drawerthis morning before I rememberedthat I had forgottenI already had a spoon. Yesterday in front of a groupof students I could not thinkof the word “phonetic”–What’s that word, I asked, the word we use when wetalk about spelling a wordthe way it sounds? I came up with “phonically”andContinue reading “#411: A Poem of Forgetfulness on April 7, 2022”
#410: An Acrostic-Like Sonnet-Thing from Wordsworth on April 6, 2022
The world will be ending soon, the headlines say, is too much or too far already gone; it’s all upwith us; late we have arrived to the clean upand soon, there will be little chance of cooling.Getting and spending is still our Achilles heel;we lay waste to our only home, desperately gripour powers;–hope that itContinue reading “#410: An Acrostic-Like Sonnet-Thing from Wordsworth on April 6, 2022”
#409: Sisyphus Mows the Lawn, April 5, 2022
He says, this is easy. Child’s play. I could do this workwith my pinky finger, blindfolded, and I would be happy to do it: forever and ever. He thinks about the poor schmuckhe got “to spell him a bit” with that fucking boulder.He thinks he justmight keep mowingthe grass until there’s no more grasson theContinue reading “#409: Sisyphus Mows the Lawn, April 5, 2022”
michael jarmer 