Saturday, January 19, 2008

A List of Literature

I started this blog to nudge myself to write more, and over the past week or so, I've been reading a lot but writing very little. But then I was like, "Remember the blog!" and worked on this poem, which also owes something to the assignment I'm writing up for my poetry class for next week on using listing and/or repetition in poems.

Literature

All over our floor—
paperbacks from thrift stores,
hardbacks from libraries.

Debit card receipts,
coupons for medium pizzas.
A plea to save polar bears

with canvas grocery sacks.
I’ll write them a check.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Park at the Park at Your Own Risk

I may do a whole series of poems comprised of things I've seen through the windshield of my car... (Or maybe I won't. Who knows?)

Warning: High Car Prowl Area

By the lake in the city park
watch for suspicious activity,
low clouds, gray skies,

gray everywhere, more accurately,
because of the parking lot
and how the lake reflects

weather, pavement, feathers
of the bodies of migrating geese.

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Rainy Day at Green Lake

Here's a poem from some notes I made earlier in the week while I sat in the car beside Green Lake, having an apple and cheese and watching some all-weather exercisers. The last line I'd say is kind of a tip of the hat to my grandma.

Joggers

Their raingear reflects headlights
and wicks moisture away

from their bodies. They follow
yellow arrows to miss bikes

and rollerblades, but nobody’s
on wheels today but babies,

strollers covered in plastic
like hairdos of careful ladies.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

If I'd Thrown a Holiday Party

Well, I didn't throw a party, but I reflected on parties past. I did, however, need to solve the mystery expressed in the last two lines; luckily I was able to solve it quickly!

Party’s Over

Napkins, crumbs, toothpicks,
plastic wrap, coffee cups,

dessert forks, and more,
unfortunately, than a few

tiny flies, from the amaryllis
or maybe the oranges.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

On the Flooded Highway

This is one of the poems I've been working on regarding the bad weather and flooding from early December 2007.

Macramé

Thick threads of headlights
in the north- and southbound lanes

can’t stop the river pulling loose—
a million knots give way,

dirt, branches, leaves
and water all over the place.