the Spring grit / of road grime / salt and care / lessness crumb / ling
poor books, / I will pick you / up off the carpet / one day
This writing is less the craft heavy and prosody poised work that keeps process hidden behind closed doors of the poet’s writing studio and their intellectual hesitance, and more the freestyle, live over home-made beats push for moments of flow.
… moment spent beside / the self upon which my / self wrests presented / me with such an alarm / I could not //
It was high time / I got out of there
Light is a little like…
These / dots / these evil / deep, dark / drops / I / can’t / stand / them / must / stop / them
Visual poems that are basically my high school experience.
… because I am a fool.
For this group of Overhead Projector Poem-ing poems I decided I would take my fancy projector to the Wick Poetry Center.
I work hard to ignore the critical voice in my head telling me that poems need to be finished and should never appear before a reader’s eyes without first having gone through many revisions and multiple workshop partners.
But that ain’t livin.
ink that manifested that poem is a stain on an old cotton shirt
The second installment of some kinda Over Head Projector Project–a visual exploration of light, space, objects and what is manifest in poetry and image.
So I nabbed it to write poems on.