What follows was written in chunks from beginning to end one morning yesterday. The melody followed, and my notes are included here. Song to come shortly. Thoughts in the Belfry part one Oh to con society and figure on sleep. Oh to be a weary man who can't very well see what is rush houred … Continue reading Thoughts In the Belfry (a folk song)
To ease, there is a stepping stone forgotten of a sergeant's skeptics, sinister on ice. My ears belie to notice sticks and stones beneath my feet-- a distance courting high regard to peasants. We lower middle class. We homes with rooftops. We internet and phones. We detached proletariat all sent off alone to be the … Continue reading And To Sleep
Congress Reaches $2 Trillion Deal Congress reached a deal! I’ve been reading the news compulsively and this morning I woke up and did the same while drinking my coffee and smoking my cigarettes coughing and hoping it isn’t the literal plague how strange all of this is how devastating as the sun hides behind clouds … Continue reading Two Poems in the style of Frank O’Hara
Suppose disintegrating into the soil is the best next place to be, surrounded by dirt and its worms chomping through. It's more there to me than it is to a student of suits. Yet in an encompassed environment, stemming wood from its fruit, we go laughing and brimming all cute. Still disguise yourself, child. The … Continue reading I Am a Patchwork Quilt
1. Interestingly, as the year begins to turn over, and winter is beginning its five-month grip on the weather, I am in no more trouble than I could be. My mood is beginning to waiver, yes-- I have to better watch my temperament. My shoulders ache, hunched against the wind cold and biting. My hands … Continue reading Balderdash
Hi, hello. This is Michael. The Supposed So. M.C. Guire. I've got too many names. Regardless, I'm coming at you in a different sort of way, because I don't usually write in this manner, sort of conversationally, or whatever, unless I'm writing long-form fiction, and I haven't been doing that so this part of my … Continue reading What Belongs in the Future Runs Off With the Past
It is tempting to be partial to a wicked nation, elated as a worshiper of tilted things. I cover up the margins with a splendid partner who aches for glinted wings. Forever tossing between lightness and weight, plunged through painted waterfalls, my armor slips off my body and I am prodded. I am stuck. So, … Continue reading It Is Tempting
It's in the space between the notes that you go caulking up. I fear it is the only thing you truly know to do. You fill in every nook and cranny. The air is trapped inside. Be careful as you do your thing. The whole thing could implode. And yet, there is a fire in … Continue reading Caulk
When it rains, I can hear children cry when can we go outside and play? When it rains, I see the shipyard's masts gone from their aching sails. When it rains, there are mudslides, but not where I'm from. Where I'm from, the fields go thick with ponds, spreading. When it rains, the bales of … Continue reading Summer In the City, Now
So this is a marriage! Lightness and darkness intertwined with caustic wit, erasing all that dangles by a golden thread. So easy what is thine to duck into a world of mimes never singing at all or even nodding along in time. So this is October! Leaves slipped from once-green canopies drifting down from their … Continue reading Autumnal
