Extra Added Value

As an extra added value marketing bull shit pimp for National Poetry Month, here’s two poems(?) from last year.

There was a bar in Wrigleyville that displayed a huge sign informing all that they proudly play classical music after every Cub game. Not true. The bar had a great juke box. The owner made the sign to help keep out the “suburban riff-raff.” His words.


It’s not the twilight
of memory
that worries me

or the foot speed
that pratfalls
at a canter

nor the Heave Ho
effort for so paltry
a pulmonary response

It’s that the degradation
isn’t singular


It’s shared

She can’t lie. I’d

But her eyes break faith.

I am the burden.

Her true
and well

Day 8 NaPoWriMo 2013



Somewhere someone plans
a spring offensive
somewhere someone young
will die
the old will be bled
and babies force marched
through a warmer gentler

Where bombs will concuss
bullets bloom
and snipers shape shift with
sudden green shoots

and headlines will seek
an approbate font

as the front opens
winter’s history revised

*****Day Two NaPoWriMo April 2013




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