#192: April is Not the Cruelest Month

April is Not the Cruelest Month There’s nothing cruel about April, except for the fact that it’s not May, and the only problem with May is that it’s not June. June may be, in my humble opinion, the kindest month of all. If I had to choose, though, a replacement for T.S. Eliot’s cruelest (what was heContinue reading “#192: April is Not the Cruelest Month”

#191: On Walking Through My Neighborhood, Currently Under Construction, With the Time-Lapse Camera on My Phone

For day three of National Poetry Writing Month, I take a walk through my neighborhood, currently under construction, with a time lapse camera.  Here’s the poem I harvested on the experience. On Walking Through My Neighborhood, Currently Under Construction, With the Time Lapse Camera on My Phone “And it goes fast; you think of the past:Continue reading “#191: On Walking Through My Neighborhood, Currently Under Construction, With the Time-Lapse Camera on My Phone”

#190: Wheels

For day #2 of napowrimo, I offer up a found poem, a poem that steals its text wholesale from some other non-poetic source, say, a newspaper article, or a sign, or the print on a cereal box. While the general rule of thumb is to find text that is innocent of even remotely being like poetry, I’veContinue reading “#190: Wheels”

#189: Writing A Lune With My Students

Well, hello, and welcome to the annual poetry writing extravaganza in celebration of National Poetry Month during which suckers like myself attempt to write and publish a poem every day during the merry merry month of April.  My first outing follows the instructions (optional as always) found on the National Poetry Writing Month website, where eachContinue reading “#189: Writing A Lune With My Students”

#185: The American English Teacher Crosses Off All The Items From His To-Do List

He does it. He crosses off all the items from his to-do list. Many of the things he crosses off were things he actually did, others, not so much. But he wants them off the list so he crosses them out. Some of those unfinished-crossed-off items will end up on other to-do lists. Some othersContinue reading “#185: The American English Teacher Crosses Off All The Items From His To-Do List”

#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)”