a start

echo the elevated
bouncing off
borinquen buildings

shine the sun
reflecting from
opaque oceans

beat the heart
reverberating through
blithe bodies

I'm stuck here. Not sure how to go from here, which determines some of my where.

why are you surprised?

remember
talent, aptitude, and drive
have consequences
and punishments

make the reward
a job well done
and hope the baggage
flows away

Just something I've been thinking about lately. The piece needs some work, but I wanted to take a stab at it this morning.

oops

jesus christ
i totally forgot
rushing to put
something
anything
out there
this is all i got

I'm getting internet at home today! So now I can do more work on these writings at home. Rather than being sneaky at work.

meeting

It had been years since they had spoken, since they had even seen each other. The old wounds and fears were fresh and present. Today they would try. No big event had brought them together. It was nothing like that. The distrust was still there. Today they would try. Time had passed. Their immaturity finally inspired them to act more adult, and so they reached out. Tentatively. And agreed to meet. The task now was to find a place and a time that was neutral - as much as those things can be.

I wasn't sure what to write, so I decided to make this post and exercise. I opened up a link to an article and just riffed on the title.

progressive in name only

it's interesting to note
when you step out of the matrix
and define human broadly
how much exploitation
can be cramed into
ten minutes

I have to laugh when people say we live in a post-feminist, post-racist, post-classist world. If I didn't laugh, I would most certainly cry.

tiresias of the subway

a midnight ride
bulleting through
the underverse

silent sleepy passengers
awake at an
explosion of poetry

broken
terrifying
cohesive
logical
threatening

the lucky
the scared
disembark

the brave
the defiant
travel on to
final destination

our poet's favorite movie

Last night, on my way home from the opera, our poet had a talent for unnerving me. I was a member of the lucky group.

the way to wonderland - post five

She had stopped listening and was trying to find the right mental phrases to accomplish a ten-step trip down the dirt road. A shiny pebble a few paces down would work. Her thoughts ran quickly through a few phrases. I want to pick up the pebble. I want to stand next to the pebble. I want to walk to the pebble. Success. The bands left her legs until she stood next to the pebble. Her armbands vanished at that point, and she picked it up. Step by tedious step and backwards was how it went. How on earth did those tripod men keep such a pace? You had to have so much information or be able to moment by moment know precisely what you wanted. She wondered if she would be here long enough to learn the tricks and shortcuts that would make life livable. But what about the cult? Her brain was firing and the bands held her still. Focus was what she needed. Another pebble would be helpful. There was one glinting at twenty paces. I want to walk to the pebble. Nothing. Perhaps it wasn’t’ a pebble? I want to walk to the shiny object. Temporary liberation. She must remember: her movements required specificity, but objects could be general.

I did a little bit of work on it last night. I've gotten to the point where I don't know where this story is going anymore. I love that moment, because possibility and creativity can really open up. It does mean that some serious editing is in my future though. Previous posts are here, here, here, and here.