Chairperson of the Bored

Apr22

Your trite observations are word-crafted dullness
A poem half-empty mistaken for fullness . . .
You really think people pay money to read this?

The MFA chapbook as strong soporific;
For use as a sedative: truly terrific—
Do poetry-lovers pay money to read this?

Your online credentials are surely impressive . . .
Your verses, however, are drab and regressive.
Do muses think people pay money to read this?

This tepid admixture of phrases concocted;
A tottering temple of yawn you’ve constructed,
(Though readers might even pay money to read this.)

PROMPT #22: write a poem that uses repetition.
You can repeat a sound, a word, a phrase, or an image, or any combination of things.

Prompted to Madness

Apr21

Still awed by your prowess
in the three-ring circus of education;
You will ever be
lion-tamer, trapeze artist and juggler:
students/parents/administration
are your spinning plates
and you do it amazingly well.

Teaching middle schoolers
was something I thought I could do
until that eighth year
when waves of nausea assaulted me
the closer I got to the school parking lot
every morning after intolerable nights:
waking up in cold sweats at 2 a.m,
breaking down over nothing,
trying and failing to love my enemies . . .

It felt like standing on that bridge;
The Scream by Munch—
ongoing, endlessly repeating
in slow motion, relentless.

How do you not become disgusted
depressed, cynical and dismissive
of the unfunny clown show
as the suited specters approach?

PROMPT #21:

write a poem in which you first recall someone you used to know closely but are no longer in touch with, then a job you used to have but no longer do, and then a piece of art that you saw once and that has stuck with you over time. Finally, close the poem with an unanswerable question.

Poet’s Problem

Apr21

Poet’s problem, patron saint
Puts me in the place I’m in
Passion’s letter
Poison’s pen
On these two things I can depend
Who will write your number on the wall?
I will not be there, when you call
I think I’ll do a line and then again . . .

Dirty dealers, school of thought
And armchair for the strength of thought
The TV set’s been on all night
You were wrong and I was right
You will write your number on the wall
I will not be there when you call
I think I’ll do a line and then again . . .

Who will write your number that’s not all?
I will not be there, when you call
You will write your number on the wall
I will not be there when you call
I think I’ll do a line and then again . . .