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Clichés

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Words

A Spate of Poets

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They’re everywhere – !behind bushes, on benches,under bridges, in the hedges,eyes shiningtoo much.    I’ll be the log   in your fire place.   Let our nostalgia  ...

When Hurricane Hearts Discuss Retrogrades

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Roguish Mercury went on a wicked mission this round, squared up with Pluto to shine racism in the limelight— Black boy shot at for needing school...

Thanksgiving

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When we arrived in this unknown placewe knit together in a waythat made me want to shoutthis, this is my family.How could you know...

Solstice Eve

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Mystic morning, snow-laced, leafless branchesof treed sentinels, faint outlines. Merge into the fog, awaiting the Sun’s return,awake, not asleep, aware. Of Oneness with the Great...

The Studio

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My mind is unwritten musicAnd a million notes played at once:A blank stave overflowing.And in this chaotic emptinessLies the melody that seeks to be...

When I Was

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When I was a rock     I knew patience     and slowly,     my sharp edges     became smooth While tree     I knew squirrels,    ...

The Gift Inside

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Surprisingly dominant the hard world — flags and batons, limos and air-conditioners, mounted mooseheads, bullets. Our soft bodyshells must conform or be shed. Yet the totems within our heads are not lampposts without lamps. Nothing the...

walking through

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i’ll walk into your forests and in the shadows of your mind i’ll walk along these winding paths to see what i might find i’ll walk...

Landscape, Mid-Consequence

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The oft-oppressive miracles of the combustion engine beckon from whiny highways of a degradation we must call fair An asymmetrical face appears in the exhaust drift between the taillight and...

Taking a Short-cut on a Dead-end

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You know... I’ve been dying, more than I’ve been living I’ve been making more than I’ve been giving You’re telling me I’ve been forgiven, what am I...

Mother’s Persian Rugs

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Mother wouldn’t have liked those three men— with their long grizzly beards and big Milwaukee guts, not to mention the mud they tracked all over Mother’s Persian rugs. That day it...

Free Poetry Skool @ Downtown Public Library

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Poets gather like words on a page scribed in their own handwriting as illustrious lines they embody poetic form — such as , a tercet , perhaps — where this...