Drive from country to
city—takes us a few blocks
to see: power’s out
Category: Poems
-
AugPoWriMo 11
We cannot always
be together but
together we will
always be
the grass beneath
the stars above
two of us between
the living earth
words become tears
time a memory
cake becomes pictures
we forget to take
the cycle repeats
even as it stills
each pulse infinite
unmeasured alone
parts of the passing
-
AugPoWriMo 10
The Quarter Horse
Life is a bus ride
through a new city
listening to the story
told by the driver
each time a new rider
steps on the bus
the driver tells the story
whole again the same way
soon you are listening
for the responses
from your fellow passengers
discovering the story
for the very first time
while you hear every
repetition with a difference
the exuberant ride
screeching to a halt
you put in another quarter
because after all you were
riding a quarter horse
-
AugPoWriMo 9
The latest report confirms
what we knew all along which
is that you cannot predict
with any certainty the weather
based on any solid interpretation
of the facts as we know them
at this time in the face of
insurmountable odds
be grateful the molasses
you walk through on the way
to the car remains breathable
for now anyway for the time being
while beings still roam the planet
making terrible decisions
that might be uneducated guesses
checking the unpredictable
which is completely foreseeable
not to be undermined by any
long range forecast that even
if we knew would come to pass
still leaves us gasping aghast
-
AugPoWriMo 8
Tree outside our front door
is convinced it’s time
to change seasons hence
the spattering of yellow leaves
untended in the grass
soon enough the tree will be bare
and we will see from here to there
again a condition of growing
too accustomed to the heat
wildfires burning on repeat
dragging across the continent
too late for us to repent
world is overpopulated with leave
so burn and give us something to believe
-
AugPoWriMo 7
Waking up is strange
unaccustomed to a familiar room
simple to fall back asleep
remembering occurrences
that would not have a place
were it not for this room
and your place within it
at some point before you left
have you returned or is it a dream
for the future to misinterpret
as nostalgia for what never happened
a home is a life not just lived in
the habitual forgotten
replaced by interruption for a time
-
AugPoWriMo 6
Unreality off the porch
a quality of the light
stretching through the hedge
Two spots visible in the sky
they might as well be stars
for awhile anyway
Creek flowing by the park
stands still attending
the glow of fireflies
House old as it could be
until right now when
memory is accessible
How many lifetimes will
we realize it all was one
and a dream at that
-
AugPoWriMo 5
The consensus is certain
humans are terrible at communicating
half a year driving in this sort of city
and I have yet to see someone using a turn signal
even in this summer of cicadas
why has no one invented the bug weather report?
follow the latest guidance based on
irrefutable studies we’ll get around to publishing someday
which also contradicts it turns out
everything people could possibly misinterpret
to mean whatever they want it to mean
too many people following what they hear
sneaking into their ears guileless and natural
propaganda a self reinforcing cycle
true facts apply as long as they are sound
falling into forests where nobody can be found
-
AugPoWriMo 4
What if we are the variant
accelerating the loss
of conditions that made us
unique among creation
wreaking destruction
on a scale never before seen
except on the microscopic
ratio of cells in say a lung
a respiratory system
trees breathing the forest
we have no hesitation in
tearing down at our convenience
no wonder replication
enabled by such a situation
homeless camped on the median
asking for loose change
as we rush back to the office
we never wanted to return to
so much energy expended on
the opposite of our inclinations
to stay still supine suffocating
the thought of sharing this space
with such a virus promulgating
what humans habitually do
infecting the air with bugs
we have no choice but to cohabitate
-
AugPoWriMo 3
Becoming convinced
roads around here
stay under construction
for no other reason
than manifesting
eternal turnover
traffic as a standstill
evidence of the sudden
clearing out after an event
you would not expect
would take forever
however another detour
around the next corner
witnesses the same distress
damaged cones upturned
left lane closed merge left
pay no mind to the blinking
lights advancing along with
the perfectly fine tarmac
orange figures stand listless
unsure what they are looking at
Joshua Keiter 