Friday afternoon, trying to prepare for a cabin retreat, a birthday weekend of solitude and reflection and writing, I stepped in a pile of leaf camouflaged dog shit in the driveway. I didn’t realize I had done this until I proceeded to go into the house with shit all over my shoe. I removed theContinue reading “#187: On the Difficulty of Getting Here”
Tag Archives: poem
#178: A Friend Has Commented On My Memory
A Friend Has Commented On My Memory Facebook tells me when someone, a friend presumably, has commented on my memory. I like this. I like, first, that my friends can see my memory. It’s remarkable. No where else is it possible to for friends to see my memory. If they are in a room with me, perhaps,Continue reading “#178: A Friend Has Commented On My Memory”
#177: Trigger Warning
Trigger Warning: The following poem may contain upsetting material. The poet wants to warn you about it in advance so you can decide whether or not to proceed, knowing full well that you might be upset by the poem’s contents. It has become the convention of late for writers, for readers, for teachers of writingContinue reading “#177: Trigger Warning”
#176: On 29 Years of Marriage Measured in Cats and Dogs
On 29 Years of Marriage Measured in Cats and Dogs It’s possible to measure out a marriage in pets. Up to year 29, my wife and I have had two cats and two dogs. Our first pets as newlyweds were all about the same age, relatively speaking, so about half way through our history inContinue reading “#176: On 29 Years of Marriage Measured in Cats and Dogs”
#174: Mowing
I have a love/hate relationship with mowing the lawn. It’s Spring and the lawn must be mowed. I mean, it doesn’t, really. We could totally let the lawn go to hell if we wanted. There’s the rub. We do not want the lawn to go to hell. It looks good when it’s been cut andContinue reading “#174: Mowing”
#167: Sir Spam A Lot (a found poem)
From time to time, believe it or not, I receive spam comments through my little blog site. They are often poorly written, sometimes hilariously so. And they remain a complete mystery to me: Where do they come from? What is their purpose? What could the originator of the message, be it a real live human orContinue reading “#167: Sir Spam A Lot (a found poem)”
#164: O Miranda
O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in’t. O Miranda O Miranda, I, too, have known tempests; I, too, have been separated from a father; I, too, know the feeling of beauty, goodness, or courage creeping through a bit atContinue reading “#164: O Miranda”
#163: Pastoral
I I’ve taught inside a classroom without windows for twenty-seven years. On the one hand, my work is done on the page and in the mind and with words moving through space between people in a room; through imagination and through language we bring the outside in. And yet, on the other hand, if IContinue reading “#163: Pastoral”
#162: Emerson’s The Poet (An Erasure)
Those umpires admired pictures beautiful souls They are selfish dry wood Some study of rules limited judgement It is a proof of beauty that men seem to put into our bodies the spirit and the organ the germination
#158: Shopping for Records on the Anniversary of Paul Revere’s Ride
On the 240th anniversary of Paul Revere’s ride, I ride to Music Millennium for Record Store Day. I wait in line for an hour to get inside and while I wait I see a former student of mine whose friend (just along for the journey) is offered $100 by some dude with an ankle injury toContinue reading “#158: Shopping for Records on the Anniversary of Paul Revere’s Ride”
michael jarmer 