Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week: The Dance by T.W. Snicket

No Comments 11 March 2015

drunk-dancing-jpg

The Dance by T.W. Snicket

Grounded but

the movement is

Fluid

She drinks like

a sailor

but holds it together well

She may be doing Cocaine

She may be Bipolar

But tonight

She is a Star

Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week: A night in Jackson Hole by T.W. Snicket

No Comments 25 February 2015

jackson hole

A night in Jackson Hole by T.W. Snicket

Singing Whistling
doing drugs
She might very well be my next
Ex Wife
Smells great but I can Not
Put my finger on the
Scent
Wow is she making me
Crazy
I need to do something to
Impress her
Quick Tim Grab me that wig

Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week: A Boat by Richard Brautigan

No Comments 11 February 2015

richard-brautigan

 

A Boat By Richard Brautigan
O beautiful
was the werewolf
in his evil forest.
We took him
to the carnival
and he started
crying
when he saw
the Ferris wheel.
Electric
green and red tears
flowed down
his furry cheeks.
He looked
like a boat
out on the dark
water.

Poetry

Wednesday Poem – Humble Pie a la Mode

No Comments 05 February 2015

Life’s short and hard

Like a body building elf

Marriage, it’s the last thing you have

Until you have nothing

Turn the lights off

Because it will help turn me on

Eat like a god

Drink like a fish

Shhhh, this will only take a minute

Poetry

7am at Porter Square – by T.W. Snicket

No Comments 18 October 2014

Red-Line-Train-in-Central-Square-T-stop-Cambridge-Massachusetts-f1030912

7am at Porter Square by T.W. Snicket

I met a T conductor today
He did not look well
He looked like me
Bagged eyes
Questionable head movements
He was out last night

We made eye contact and knew immediately
we suffered from the same affliction

I ask
Long night my friend
He replies
Too long but it sure was eventful
Where you heading?
Just starting my shift bud

Over the loud speaker we hear
Braintree train is now approaching
Time to back the grind he says
Excuse me
Sorry I meant back to the grind
I hear ya man but don’t stop having that fun.
Fucking Boston man. Great Women.
Oh ya

Where you heading I said again somehow forgetting that I just said these exact words seconds ago?
Back and forth back and forth

My hangover kicks in to full gear during these
minutes of now silent waiting
Back and Forth I think.

As the Red Line to Braintree pulled in
I watched him shake a conductors hand
and get situated in his chair.

I then heard over the loud speaker in a
voice all too familiar.
Next Stop Harvard

Poetry

Making It by T.W. Snicket

No Comments 12 September 2014

Making It by T.W. Snicket

What do you do when your friends are making it?

Making it being the phrase used to identify that you:

are not living in your parents house but own one

are married

have a child

got a promotion

had something published

got a role in a fantastic new show

What do you do when not only that but you know you have talent
That if you could just get that chance
And by the way how in the hell did he get that script in front of them

Maybe this is it

I mean

what do you do when sure you could have committed to that relationship but you decided something just was not right

what do you do when you got passed over for the promotion, the part, the play

You Work as a receptionist or market analyst that is what you do

Maybe Struggle for rent

Maybe just Hope for the best

Maybe just Sleep more

Maybe eat the whole thing and feel sick

Then one day say No.
Say maybe today is my day
Today is my day to fail and be OK with it because Fuck it

You:

Fail at as many things as possible

Fail at finding a seat on the bus

Fail at getting a raise

Fail with an office joke

Fail with flirting with Denise in accounting

Fail at as many things as possible

And
Eventually you wont

Eventually you will be so used to failing that you will not care

Eventually you will grow

Eventually you will find yourself

Eventually someone will see you and say to themselves

What do you do when your friends are making it?

Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week – Age of Wonder by T.W. Snicket

No Comments 20 August 2014

Age of Wonder by T.W. Snicket

Granite counter tops
Stainless Steel appliances throughout the house
Central Air
Three Fireplaces
Hardwood Floors everywhere except the kitchen
A cleaning lady who comes twice a week
Her name is Jen and I think she was an accountant at one point
Great with numbers
Must have cracked and just loves the smell of Pine-Sol

Sensors everywhere in this place
My toilet now knows when I have entered the room
more or less saying hello
have a seat
what can I do for you
Here is some water to freshen up your ass
No need for paper I dry as well

The Refrigerator has a British voice
that tells me to shut it
Nice and proper

Almost everything in here is controlled by my phone
I could go on and on

The new Age of Wonder right

Sitting here looking at it all

Thinking, Fuck

 

Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week: The City is Empty by T.W. Snicket

No Comments 13 August 2014

Salad_bar-02

The City is Empty

And it is glorious

Two weeks in August every year

Yuppies to their Cape houses

Families to their campsites

And it is glorious

I have never seen

the salad bar

have this much

Thousand Island dressing

Poetry, The Written Word

Some Key Facts About Norman

No Comments 08 August 2014

I like cold weather and small crowds. A nice winter jacket is always nice. I have pale skin and can admire it in others although very little impresses me. Except a good motor and the right attitude.

I think the sun can be dangerous and a beer is always a good idea. If you want to say something I would recommend you wait. Think about it. Chances are it’s not worth it. Or, at least, you’d say it differently.

Regret everything. Even being human. Annoy least as possible. If you have to ask, you probably shouldn’t.

Keep to yourself, unless otherwise noted. And never, ever, think you know more than the other guy. And definitely NEVER think people want to hear what you have to say.

 

Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week: the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls By E. E. Cummings

No Comments 11 June 2014

e-e-cummings

the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls By E. E. Cummings

the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls
are unbeautiful and have comfortable minds
(also, with the church’s protestant blessings
daughters,unscented shapeless spirited)
they believe in Christ and Longfellow, both dead,
are invariably interested in so many things—
at the present writing one still finds
delighted fingers knitting for the is it Poles?
perhaps. While permanent faces coyly bandy
scandal of Mrs. N and Professor D
…. the Cambridge ladies do not care, above
Cambridge if sometimes in its box of
sky lavender and cornerless, the
moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy

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