Category Archives: Poetry

I’m Going to Listen to Everything, Redux

Nearly 100 poems ago, I wrote about the desire to listen to every record in my collection from A-Z. This is a bit of a pattern for me, as, more than twelve years ago now, I made a similar claim about my CD collection, that I would like to listen to at least a singleContinue reading “I’m Going to Listen to Everything, Redux”

#590: The Seldom Seen Kid, Redux (a song by Elbow)

I wrote a poem in April of 2024, about one of my favorite Elbow songs,a kind of music ekphrastic, an ode, or, a lyric explication disguised in verse, an exploration of a piece of music that moves me, mysteriously and profoundly, to the point where,even though I was not surewhat the song was about, attemptingContinue reading “#590: The Seldom Seen Kid, Redux (a song by Elbow)”

#589: Alena (just.this.thought)

Instagram has my number. I keep seeing videosfrom Alena. All of them shot identically, a close up of her entire face, the frame starts just belowher clavicle, the topof the frame just barelymisses the very topmostpoint of her head. Thelighting is always the same,and the backdrop, the same,minimalist, nothing detracts from her face.She wears veryContinue reading “#589: Alena (just.this.thought)”

#588: On Not Going Back to the Schoolhouse on the First Day of School for the 4th Year In a Row

I hardly give it a thoughtuntil my wife heads out of the housewith a tub of red vines for the drum line info table where herstudents will entice the 9th gradersinto joining indoor percussion. Then, I give it a thought. This is the fourth school yearin a row that I have not reportedback to workContinue reading “#588: On Not Going Back to the Schoolhouse on the First Day of School for the 4th Year In a Row”

#587: A musician of a certain age. . .

. . . sits on his drum throne and bends overto tighten the floor tom legs and the agonyis immediate. He’s not sure if he hears an actual crack or if the pain synapses inhis brain are exploding his auditory nerves. What is most likely is that the pain hascaused him to yell. He’s settingContinue reading “#587: A musician of a certain age. . .”

#587: Streak Ends! Stats Fail!

According to my Insight Timerstatistics, I meditated 203 consecutivedays and then I stopped. This morning, I meditatedfor the second consecutive day. Part of me feels like I’ve been robbed, so disappointed tohave broken my streak, to have experienced such a monumental stats fail. Another part of me wantsto trash the Insight Timeraltogether, right along sideofContinue reading “#587: Streak Ends! Stats Fail!”

#586: Literature Only: Another Air Travel Poem

Hi, there.  Sure is nice seeing you here at 30,000 feet. Feel free to enable, open, scan, and browse, but please  note, you can place literature only inside  the plastic pouch  above your upright  tray table. Anything  decidedly not  literature, you’ll have  to place elsewhere. I know you’re already  frustrated with the free-for-all nature ofContinue reading “#586: Literature Only: Another Air Travel Poem”

#584: Meditation Under Construction (A Wally Camp Dispatch)

In my novel, the main characteris building a playhouseand his drivewayis torn to shitfor the necessary underground infrastructure. In reality, the campus atMacalester Collegein St. Paul, Minnesotais under constructionand roads and sidewalksand large lawn swathsare torn to shit to make way for the necessary underground infrastructure. We meditated to that. Windows open so the morningbreezeContinue reading “#584: Meditation Under Construction (A Wally Camp Dispatch)”

#583: The Forgotten Watch (Three Haiku)

Did you know that the plural of haiku is haiku? You’re welcome. Arrived safely and happily yesterday at Macalester College in St. Paul, Minnesota for the annual Warren Wilson MFA Program for Writers alumni conference, otherwise known as Wally Camp. One of our intrepid emcees of our nightly readings of poetry and fiction and memoirContinue reading “#583: The Forgotten Watch (Three Haiku)”