Ticket Punch…a poem for Elroy Jones

Yesterday Snz took in a matinée. A small play with a lady actor from that sit-com “Cheers.” Said she liked it. Then joined me to watch the Hawks and Kings…game one.

Puppy had a big day. The beach at the lake and then four hours at his Urban puppy bar. Then joined me to listen to Draft Punk while I read the new NYRB. Need to get that book about 1979.

The lovely Elroy Jones left these six words to be included in a bad poem.

“blue, feet, grudge, dusk, breeze, cotton”

Awoke ‘bout three this morning and started this way.

with her feet
she left town
but kept the


then here

at her recital
Schumann’s A-minor
a breeze
but the buzz
was her bare

OK . But kept looking at blue and cotton and the inherent clichés they suggest and support. And that’s when the poemin’ turned dark.

Ticket Punch

bare feet
with cap and gown
down clown
with your
diploma mill

High cotton…Now…Right?
Blue Sky…..Now…Right?

dim witness to
the dusk of
your station

Which way that breeze blow, Bro?
And who is to act on the grudge?


A little more coffee then it’s off to the lake and back to back playoff hockey.

Thanks again to Elroy Jones.


You Know You Want To Opine

You May Also Like

Punk Pulp Poem

So one of my best-est buddies …Judi the wonderful Riverdame … wanting me to bad poem using the following six words… mischief, waiting, dust, orange, ...........


Hydraulics I dream of Paris/ after an evening of bourbon/ I conjure Kentucky/ kickin’ back on Champagne/ Never still when moonshinin’/ bending the elbow unseals ...........