A Page That Got No Play, Post.

Don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but posting here no longer get’s me high. More like a dead cat bounce. ( Insert your market correction metaphor here)

But that poem a day for April thing is but a couple of months away, and I’ve participated for close to ten years, and I’d like to end rhyme with a true decade.

And, I like to see what new poets are doing. If the times affects their tone. If the narrative march of culture moves their line after line.

And, I often find the about page of poets interesting. If they justify or shy away from having their say with a world that thinks the discipline, for the most part, disposable.

Here, at 1xpad, there are currently over two hundred poems. I’m working to remove any duplications, but some post “team poems” to try to illustrate, perhaps only to me, a point or position made or taken.

Now in my dotage,  I’m often at odds with myself about open comments and likes. Sometimes the paltry nature of notice and acknowledgement feels like a public rebuke and embarrassment to the effort. But, if I limit an option to engage, that feels small and selfish  and green with envy. A get off my lawn.

For now, all contact options are open, including a contact page. But that could change faster than I can pour a bourbon, or slip into a pout. Like when I pull the aforementioned “About Page.”

Excepting for a few clues to the who, what, and why that you might find on the About the Verse, page… that’s about it.

I hope you find something here to enjoy.

Regards,
r.douglas
February 4, 2018

A Snow Job

We’re going to get a foot of snow and along with all that white, comes the blues. That ain’t news. The deeper the flakes the more unfathomable the depression. An old trope, which is why I rope-a-dope a new theme of a white trash nature, so I can use that flat color picker to better strum how hum-drum becomes the heart of this ex-pat country boy, a brief crow fly away, from that Magnificent Mile.

All Y’all buying this?

And there is absolutely nothing white trash about this theme. I always thought it wonderful …but very hard to make one’s own..
which is why I opted for category flat colors.

Read The Whole Book?

Read The Whole Book?


If you think an algorithm is an equation, you best get the hell off the World Wide Web right now.

On the top down feed provided by this parasitic press, I spy and read post about American politics by people who readily confess they don’t enjoy, nor read, non-fiction books.

How could that be? Why do I read and often enjoy their efforts, even after they’ve copped to such an incongruity. Different stokes.

But here’s hoping that they are aware that their Facebook feed is but a test kitchen recipe concocted to sweet and sour. To fire the taste buds of cozy and confrontation simultaneously. An order of comfort food followed by a helping of outrage. A digital skin-pop of sugar and spice leading to the bit and byte of a program digital “Jones.” An addictive addition that sums up but the corporate proof of a ballooning bottom line.

So read a damn non-fiction effort. Even if it is, just a timely polemic. Here