Crocodiles and Bears are having a field day,a great yield of playfulshenanigan in suburbanstreets and insidepeoples’ homes. They may be tryingto tell us something.Like: hey, this usedto belong to me. Or: hey, now you knowhow it feels to be a bear or a crocodile.I would not be surprisedif, in bear or crocodilelanguage, the word forContinue reading “#430: A Poem in the Style of Kay Ryan on April 23, 2022”
Tag Archives: NaPoWriMo
#429: My Friend the Media Specialist (a poem on April 22, 2022)
My friend the media specialist(we used to call them librarians)gifted me this morning a prompt for a poem. My friend the media specialistsays the word “precarity” might make a good subject. “Precarity,” I say. “Is that likethe feeling or state of precariousness?” My friend the media specialistsays, “Yes, precarious, uncertain,tentative, vulnerable, transitory, dependent on chance.”Continue reading “#429: My Friend the Media Specialist (a poem on April 22, 2022)”
#428: Curly, Dunkin Donuts, and that Bosch Painting (another poem on April 21, 2022)
I miss my best friend from high school.His name was either Jeff, McBee, McTimmonsor McSeven, depending on a variety of variables, none of which were his choosing.My parents called him Curlybecause he got a perm once and the curls, years later, were still there. We listened to music all the timeand together we got drunkContinue reading “#428: Curly, Dunkin Donuts, and that Bosch Painting (another poem on April 21, 2022)”
#427: A Poem from Whitman’s “I Hear America Singing” on April 21, 2022
I hear the American High Schoolsinging, the varied carols I hear: students sing their waydown the hallways andinto classrooms, where, sometimes, they stop singing, quiet, headsdown, depressed or exhausted–other timesthe singing never ceasesand their verses and chorusespercolate and resonate througheach 87 minute period.I hear the teachers sing their teaching voices, singing their lessonsunceasingly, tirelessly, musteringContinue reading “#427: A Poem from Whitman’s “I Hear America Singing” on April 21, 2022″
#426: The Veteran American English Teacher Reads an Inspirational Book for New Teachers (a poem on April 20, 2022)
The Veteran American English Teacherfinds this thing, Apples and Chalkdust, InspirationalStories and Encouragement for Teachers, among the effects that another teacherleft behind years ago in his third or fourthyear of teaching, leaving the professionto work in a winery. Inscribed to him, It was a gift from a student or the parents of a student, whoContinue reading “#426: The Veteran American English Teacher Reads an Inspirational Book for New Teachers (a poem on April 20, 2022)”
#425: Instructions for Winning (a poem on April 19, 2022)
Get out of the way. Get out of your own way. You’re in the way. The only trouble, the only obstacle, the only real competitionis you. It’s become a cliché, hackneyed, overdone, a truism that neverthelessholds true–unless, of course, it doesn’t. And there may be times and places where and when whatever is stoppingyou fromContinue reading “#425: Instructions for Winning (a poem on April 19, 2022)”
#424: Five Answers to the Same Question (a poem for April 18, 2022)
I In a sense, yes. II In another sense, perhaps in the sense with which you mean it,no. IIIMaybe. A good word. Ambiguity is everything–and nothing. IVI like the cut of your jib. VI hadn’t considered it, but I will take it up with the management.
#423: An Easter Egg Poem on April 17, 2022
On Easter Eve, my house was egged. Yeah, we were watchingtelevision when suddenlystartled by the intensebombardment on the wall inside of whichwe were engrossed in a show, a wall covered,I might add, with windows, single paned, old glass, that luckily, did not shatter. These guys had to havepretty good arms, becauseour house is set awayContinue reading “#423: An Easter Egg Poem on April 17, 2022”
#422: My Neighbor Digs a Hole (a poem on April 17, 2022)
My neighbor digs a hole, a big one,in his back yard. I’ve met him. He seems like a good guy and hehas a beautiful Husky and runs a care facility for elderly folk on the top floor of his basement apartment. Of course, I wonder, why is he digging such a gigantichole? It was rainingContinue reading “#422: My Neighbor Digs a Hole (a poem on April 17, 2022)”
#421: A Curtal Sonnet (à la “Pied Beauty”) on April 16, 2022
Glory be to mowing right before the rains come– For black clouds as dark as coal just so far away; For the vacuum cleaner purr of my electric mower;Not a scent of gasoline in the air as I race against time; The lawn patchy and poofed in spots where grass grows uneven; Now smoothed byContinue reading “#421: A Curtal Sonnet (à la “Pied Beauty”) on April 16, 2022″
michael jarmer 