Day 6: Alphabet Backwards

May 30, 2012 § 1 Comment

Just a poem, nothing too special about it. I don’t think it’s 100% finished, but they never quite are!

Alphabet Backwards

They tell me no word exists for asking the planet to spin gently,

for quieting the razorblade scrape of the continents,

for letting anybody sleep tonight,

for making you mine.

But guess what, honey? They publish new dictionaries all the time.


So I offer you every love cliché the first day I hear it, hoping it may

work as miraculously as it speaks. But your pity-smile says

they have no new words. Only old words

we didn’t need before

because we still had enough, back then, to explain how much it hurt.


They tell me there is a word for you and a word for me but never a word

for you&me. If I knew the word for what we left behind

I might remember where it got lost. But

the punishment, they tell me,

is realizing every day there won’t be a word for it until I find it again.


Ladies and gentlemen the word for that is “circle” The earth, for example.

For example, the orbit of the earth. The final mouth of a gun.

But even so I will buy every new dictionary.

I will read on my knees,

knuckling through page after page to see if they have yet relented.



Day 5: X

May 23, 2012 § 1 Comment

This lovely piece of work has been removed so that I can send it on to greater things.

Day 4: Freeform

May 14, 2012 § Leave a comment

Today isn’t a prompt. I just thought of a phrase and started riffing on it. What if the things you take for granted in life just got tired of you? It’s kind of a funnyterrifying thought.

don’t go or you’ll miss dessert!




is this thing on?


yass alright then excuse me, ladies&gentlemen

excuse me please—that’s right yass, yass

thankyou thankyou can I have your attention please

this will only take a moment of your time


are you sure this is on yass alright I know

pardon me ladies&gentlemen


there we are there we are


i am here to announce that safety has left the building

safety is no longer will no longer be signing autographs has nothing left for you




of course its not the end of the world ladies&gentlemen

what makes you think

they tell me the world has a very long long long way left to go before that

it has much further to go than you

or you

or you in the—what is it? puce?—dress


of course I mean entirely gone there is nothing I mean after all why would he

because you asked nicely

there’s nothing for it ladies&gentlemen but to sit very


and see who gets eaten first






well I expect he just got tired ladies&gentlemen

don’t you ever get tired?

Day 3: I didn’t actually skip this day

May 14, 2012 § Leave a comment

Today I drew a picture instead of writing–I just felt like it. It was a lot of fun but I can’t actually draw so I’m not going to wave it across the internet.

Day 2: Grab Bag

May 12, 2012 § 2 Comments

This one site just gives you a certain number of randomly-generated words and you have to write a story using all of them. Today I got the words: deterioration, chrome, useless, kitchen, annex, gore, bar, liberal arts, curator, and upcoming. It is sad. The word “gore” probably got me.


Of course she had said it to him once as all moms do—peeling an orange at the kitchen table, telling herself it might stop the deterioration of that skin under her eyes—had said it without thinking because who really thinks anymore?: “You need a liberal arts degree like you need a hole in the head” (vernacular, vernacular, it’s just a saying she told herself eight million times afterwards) but then he ended up in an alleyway with a liberal arts degree and an actual, dripping, final hole in his head and she thought between sobbing fits and yogurts that she would not have minded him as the useless curator of some useless art museum making almost nothing if someone would only mop up the gore of five years gone madly wrong and let her try it over, let every moment of his life be upcoming and promising just one more time so she could try the other fork in the road and see if it at least came to a gentler crashing halt.

Some undergrads in grey hoodies had annexed her regular booth in the pub, leaving her to stagger up to the bar like some ravaged drunk who had nothing left to–oh wait.

Is that supposed to be a…am I supposed to be laughing?

She had said that to him many times as well.

She did not order anything and her twenty chrome selves in the taps along the back wall of the bar did not order anything either, but the bartender had read the newspapers and so he left her alone.

The undergrads laughed loudly and stuffed all their sloppy backpacks under the table. They hardly had room for their feet. If a plane lost an engine and came through the roof, or if a bomb went off under the counter, or if a semi lost its brakes and came through the kitchen wall at 135 mph, they would all trip and fall over and never make it to the door in time.  She put her hands flat on the counter. She looked left and right for all their mothers lined up, mourning, forever and ever wordless.

The kids talked for an hour without ever turning and looking back over their shoulders towards her.

Day 1: Cento (Patchwork) Poem

May 11, 2012 § Leave a comment

In a Cento poem (according to the website I found), you scavenge phrases from another text and re-arrange them to build a poem. For fun, I decided to try and find the least poetic source I could. So this is a poem built out of random phrases (all three words or more, NOT divided by line break) from the first chapter of a biology textbook.


Sequence of Events (Biology: A Self-Teaching Guide)


Seeds from the moon,

pushed by the physical pressure of starlight,

were showered onto earth in the form of electric sparks.


This one last vestige of mysticism burned

when plummeting through the atmosphere,

and even theologians


(the actual space travellers)

were covered with a fine muslin that kept flies out,

with the intention of infecting other distant planets.


The earth cooled.

To the surprise of many, no maggots appeared there

for over a thousand years, perhaps considerably longer.


Therefore it is not dealt with.

(Those millions, even billions who believe

having all been obliterated long before they ever had a chance,



Scientists generally concur:

interstellar space is quite cold.

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