Sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled broadcast of Jill Quotes, but I have to tell you something. Well, a few things.
One is that I was thinking of splitting the JQ into it’s own blog, and bringing this one back to it’s true intent of filling the world with bad poetry. Just a thought at this [...]
“Sometimes when I breathe in, it sounds like seagulls.”
» Read the rest of this entry ...I hate coming up with names for my poems, can you tell? If they were published, they would either be numbered, or all called the same: New Poem.
on every park bench
every fountain ledge
a candle lit in the dark
to remember.
the letters written
were never read, but
burned in a pan in
the driveway, the
smoke rising, filling
their eyes with visions
of [...]
Pleasure
I left your sun setting in a
Different notebook and didn’t
Notice the pages turning violet
On their edges
Absent their only mark of time the
neighborhood kids turn their open
mouths & eyes to the burnished sky—
a sky absent of light or dark and with mouths open
pour their laughter up and into it,
spilling it through the kitchen window & no
Paper [...]
Summer Days
Summer afternoon in
A dark living room
You on the couch eyes
Half closed after mowing
The lawn, but still open
Enough that we knew
Not to turn the channel from
The dusty old WGN “shit kicker”
That had held his imagination since
He was young
He said the slow drawl and the
High plains clouds driving towards
The horizon forever was all a man
Needed to [...]
A gentle cool rain blew in and
Was heard only by me, and only
because of the loudmouthed leaves,
tiny fingers on keyboards typing, the screen
the dim edge of my skull, through
a crack the mosquito slipped and
then found its terrible beak into
my veins while I tried to sleep—
Slapping shoulder, slapping thigh
buzzing ear buzzing by,
I held vigil over the [...]
Sound: ice cubes in a glass
Color: deepest purple
Smell: ocean
Sensation: being watched
Place: tree house
The sun by the ocean, set.
from their lofty treehouse
where as children they were married
and where as children they nursed
false wounds bandaged with
newspaper and crepe
and drank sidecar’s from invisible
cups with ice cubes clinking–
in this treehouse they
sat, the deepest purple
seeping through the cracks
in the boards [...]
Yes, it is year two that I am going to submit some poetry to the Sidewalk Poetry project!
This is a great public art project started by artist Marcus Young, where anybody who resides in St. Paul can submit a poem. If chosen, the poem(s) will be pressed into the wet cement in various neighborhoods around [...]
The seed leaves the sharpie colored ready ripe avocado with the sound of mud Sucking your boot and you are made dizzy with anticipation.
Avocado. never could spell that word. love to eat it, hate to spell it.
Same with recipe and the names of Polish friends–with an “I, or a “Y”?
Too many versions echo from the [...]
Moving In, Moving Out
new shower curtain from Walgreen’s, all folded and reeking of vinyl like the new zipper pouch you got to hold your colored pencils and square eraser in the 4th grade, the smell
Better than new car, superglue, sharpies or leather—hands down enough to give you a headache to the split of your skull, [...]