The Marathon journey continues. Search under the category Day Trip Poetry Marathon 2018 for earlier entries.
Once again poetry writing, it’s March 8, and I am at Montco’s Brendlinger Library, today being the day after our second snowstorm in less than a week. This one resulted in about 8” of snow but we did not have the high winds of last week’s extravaganza, thank goodness. I was able to drive to school without incident, though I took a different route – PA 73W to US 202N – main roads and less worry.
This decision meant I parked in a different lot and entered the campus from a new angle. I’m in the Art Center lot, and this reminds me that, having toured the art facility a little while back, I can tell you it is really nice. I’m thinking of trying their ceramics open studio class someday. And if I have time, they have a student exhibit (high school) on right now that I’d like to see. I took a photo of the section where I parked so as to make sure I found my car again.
Anyway, here is College Hall from the other side. You can see the bell tower off in the distance, to give you a landmark.
I set up on the main floor and got to work. I had edited poems yesterday at home, so my focus today was on writing new ones. And I wanted to try to do a Minuscule, too, if time permitted. Of course, Little Vines, too, as well.
I find the day divides itself very easily. New poems in the morning, a Minuscule, maybe, then lunch, and then Little Vines. And then I head out for a pleasant drive home.
All right, here are some results.
First of all, some snow poems. Of course.
A dull sky
it is flat.
Sky and snowflakes
infinite layers of gray and snow
arrive one after another
on the ground
endless reams of weightless paper stacking up
in unending rows of columns rising
constructing the form from what was just an idea
the snow flakes
they just run all over themselves
pushing to get to the ground
each one moving fast as it can
fend off competitors
I’m sure some hurt feelings
and none of them going anywhere
but hit the ground
The trip down is short.
Make the most of it.
From the Small Artist Sketchbook in progress. Guess what, it is that little white house again. I had forgotten about this version of it!
small sketchbook image 35
The small house.
Blinds drawn. Door shut tight.
in the landscape. The small house.
Its eyes shut. Sleeps on.
Out of my imagination. I will admit to sharing the green tea feeling expressed here.
nips the bottle
not the one you’re thinking
just a snort of iced green tea
about a million times a day
She is addicted. Says it gives her
a certain kinetic advantage
in getting through things
what things exactly I don’t know
it fights flab. I try to imagine
what she’d do with
one of those energy drinks
and realize it would be taps
for anyone in her path
I back off I say nil about it
I’m a little scared of her
And now, some Little Vines.
can you take dictation and do shorthand
type up a revelation from an anonymous source
annotate an overheard conversation?
cactus needle regrets
just grow and grow
the comet asserted itself
against middle-class morality
in the middle of the night
Stop lecturing me, he’s just a guy
average perception average indifference
I worshipped him and then I didn’t.
not so fast sister
said the egghead in the plaid jacket
Let me handle the acetylene torch.
I’m not one of them love losers
full of toxic personality traits
I’m guilty of plenty but not that.
I’ve told you and told you
helix has nothing to do with circle or triangle
epoxy isn’t going to fix that.
such blunt words
our family reunion fell apart after about an hour
let’s discuss how this is all your fault
Now he’s tried to steal the halo
Lucky it was stuck on with glue
This nonsense has to stop.
the unpleasant truth was holding
solid and immovable
like the everlasting ice in winter
I get the picture
nothing will stop you
short of removing your head and destroying your brain
a failed adjective
a soul banished
black pen strokes across the page
your eyes are up
your eyebrows even upper
you know all of this
but you don’t know all of that
I’ll step away and take a deep breath
I’ll find another town another street another house
And don’t say the word “zombie” to me ever again
Thank you for reading! See you next time.