For those who might be tuning in via my Facebook post and my post about Facebook from yesterday, welcome to Word Wednesday! Each week, I post poems that I’ve been working on in place of a more traditional blog post.

If you click on the category, you’ll see lots of blackout poems – where a newspaper article is used as source material to create a poem through blacking out or redacting all the words that aren’t used (a concept stolen from writer Austin Kleon). You’ll also come across something called Adjustment, which is a project I’ve started this year where I’m creating poems from the pages of a book called Adjustment Day by Chuck Palahniuk.

However, this week I’m sharing something a bit more traditional and recent. This is a poem I wrote on Monday and present here pretty much unedited and unrevised.


the music of a boiling water pot
was all i could afford at the time,
craving peace but unable to cope
with silence.

watching frost climb
the outside panes of a window,
calculating the days to spring,
minus my birthday.

maybe we should still migrate south
i thought out loud, nomads drifting
in all directions in search
of warmth, food, & love.

(which are all the same thing
at one time or another)

you drink too much wine, she muttered,
rolling over & falling back
into a deep, dreamless sleep
which i envied.

maybe so.