Yellow postit notes and unfurled legal pads sit before me, maize numbers on my football jersey, in a pattern that is not a pattern. A pattern only because there is no other yellow in this section of the library. Because we look for patterns and when you look for something you will find it right where you expect it to be.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Pointing skyward
Minarets like masts on the ship of countrymen headed to a coast jutting tall buildings upward, so that in their past, their present and their future, they obsess with tearing through the sky's filament.
Posted by John D. at 10:26 AM 0 comments
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Our maiden voyage lands
The red light from the radio while we are wrapped in 4a.m. black a beacon for us to come home from the storm, a 90s ensemble playing us in.
Posted by John D. at 10:35 AM 0 comments
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Why I find it hard to write today
The dog licks the puppy bites the dog fights with the puppy draws blood from the dog limps away with head bowed from the puppy whines like a teakettle at the cat claws at the patio blinds to get the attention of the puppy pounces the glass doors to get the attention of the cat licks his genitals, ignores the dog watches the puppy terrorize the dog watches the cat lick his genitals.
Posted by John D. at 9:56 AM 0 comments
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Classrooms as a social activity
Reb1rth is not some scribbled dead sea scroll markered on a particle board school desk in first period. It is the student from second period who considers what has been written so that it saturates her understanding of geometrical theorems, of Chaucer, of the Trail of Tears and women burning in shirtwaist factories. A word that means practically nothing but connects her to some sleepy and irritated boy with blaring headphones in a way he will never consider. A boy who sniffs fumes from the permanent marker, black, which he used to lazily scribe the capital letters and number 1 in place of i.
Posted by John D. at 1:16 PM 0 comments
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Things you can't take back
To protect the pathetic little naked tree from the winter squalls who blanket the city in bitterness, you have to keep all the pathetic little naked branches from snapping off. You'll need those for later, after the unending storm.
Posted by John D. at 10:27 PM 0 comments
Old loves, new adventures!
We'll take a trip to P5
Nice little venture
New Horizons
Navigating our way
Through thick ebon
Pinprick Earth
Suns
Settle in
Where moons are
Dwarfed by Methane Gleam
Pluto at the
Center
of our
Gravity-tugged
Hearts
Posted by John D. at 11:05 AM 0 comments