66 Day Poetry Habit, Humor Poem, Misc Poetry

Exclusionary Gratitude re: Gum

I am grateful for gum
But only for myself and
The highbrow few who
Know how to chew
Silently

Everyone else? A crack
Or a smack should get you ten
In the pen where open-
Hearted and closed-
Mouthed missionaries
Teach by parable how to
WWJD it
In regards to absent-
Minded yet tasty and
Socially acceptable cud.

-M.
(Day 10 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)

66 Day Poetry Habit, Misc Poetry, Poetry

Little Trees Do

Dragging the little tree’s
Corpse behind me a
Diatribe to the heatwaves
Rising from the cement

It’s not you, little tree
Doing what little trees do
Maybe even trying to
Shade the porch in
Your little tree ugly
Intrusive volunteer way.

It’s not you little tree
It’s the gardener
Who let you grow
Lets the rose bushes
Grow too
Evil arms that reach and
Grab in the walk

Blind to anything
Apparently
But mow and go—
Especially go.

-M.
(Day 9 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)

Mental Health, Misc Poetry, Poetry

Blue Light Therapy May Aid in the Treatment of Bipolar Disorder

Artificial blue to beat the blues
No sugar in your cookie, Cookie
Cutter approaches don’t often
Help problematic inflammation in the gray
Matter of fact exercise
Is another lever we can pull
Me closer Dr. Beautiful
Blues—nothing artificial about you-oo
Tell me again
How the mental health benefits of exercise
Cap at thirty minutes so I can’t
Lap sad to death in the beautiful chlorine blue.

-M.

Misc Poetry, Poetry

Heavy Duty Cycle

She sheds herself

one rough skin at a time,

drops them dripping into the hamper,

and, naked innards walking,

drags the dripping hamper

to a sly-smiled laundress

who has her discount ticket pre-filled.

Heavy duty cycle, she says,

and remember,

hang is the only way to dry.

-M.

Misc Poetry, NaPoMo, Poetry

Dogs (NaPoMo Day 5)

Dogs have races. Dogs have war.
Dogs have Shakespeare.
I think someone ate a dog in some
Shakespeare play.
I got that from a movie where a teacher
taught Shakespeare.
Simulacra upon simulacra
the coolest concept in sociology.

I see a dog in a meadow. He is well cared for.
Sometimes when we think of dogs
we get a pain in the pit of our stomachs because
we think of dogs being mistreated.
Innocence makes us fear guilt.
Little children sing creepy songs in horror movies
give us the chills.

Serial killer has the heart of a child.
Animals are innocent.
Shark seeks food and procreation
the height of evolution.
Lamb of God doesn’t bleat
on the bloody altar.

-M.

Misc Poetry, Poetry

Blood Magic

Cailleach 2In the wake of receiving new eyes—
ball and white, red and black—
my intellectually adoptive grandmother
has departed her own gnarled hand,
likely moved on by neglect.

In her place the Scottish hag
Cailleach of my blood,
the same gnarled hand but missing
ring and pinky.

A red leather bracelet
sewn to my wrist—involuntary surgery—
whispers sanguinely to the half
of my innards that still
belong to the ragged dead hung on
my right ankle as I exited the womb.

-M.

Misc Poetry, Poetry

In the Style of Clementi

I reached down to play and forgot how it went
this piece I wrote when I wanted to be a composer.
All I could play then was Clementi’s sonatinas
so a sonatina is what I wrote and noted
In the style of Clementi to give the unintentionally pedantic
arpeggios some gravitas.

It was easy enough then for my fingers to churn
on the left hand and twiddle on the right.
But now, silent stacks of sheet music behind me,
leaning towers of dog-eared Film Score Monthly,
my battered mind turns her back on the fingers that long
for the old twiddle and churn
back when the books held more hope than silverfish,
when the room used to be bright,
when the piano was only a little out of tune.

-M.