#NaPoWriMo - day twenty four

A dream: I’m washing the dishes and turn around to see someone walking out of the hallway towards the door carrying something. I realize there’s someone else right behind me, a stranger. I know he’s going to hit me, perhaps kill me. Don’t, don’t, don’t I say but he strikes me and keeps striking me and keeps striking me.

A dream: I’m washing the dishes and turn around to see someone walking out of the hallway towards the door carrying something. I realize there’s someone else right behind me, a stranger. I know he’s going to hit me, perhaps kill me. I search in the sink and find a chopping knife. Before he strikes me I take the knife stab him in the chest. I keep striking and striking and keep striking.

A dream: You’re washing the dishes and turn around to see someone walking out of the hallway towards the door carrying something. It’s me. I’m carrying everything that ever mattered. You realize you’re going to be alone. You stand by the sink and hold a chopping knife. You feel like you’ve been stabbed in the chest. I keep walking and walking and walking.

#NaPoWriMo - day twenty three

 once i had several lovers.     i had several lovers once.
     when one was at work      i thought that truth
   i would be with another.     would prevent a wound.
      i first wrote “wound”.      by truth i meant "truth".
     when one was at work      the truth is we wound
   i would wound another.      without a thought.

i had several lovers once.      once i  had several lovers.
          i thought that truth       when one was at work
  would prevent a wound.      i would be with another
  by truth i meant “truth”.      i first wrote "wound".
     the truth is we wound      when one was at work
           without a thought.      i would wound another.

#NaPoWriMo - day twenty two

30% of people think reading regularly makes them better than others.
30% of people can flare their nostrils.
30% of people have two jobs.
30% of people don’t use bar soap.
30% of people will love you.
30% of people think most people can be trusted.
30% of people eat candy nearly every day.
30% of people believe they will live to a hundred.
30% of people have experienced some form of abuse.
30% of people lie about how much they give to charities.
30% of people are highly sensitive.
30% of people are overweight.
30% of people have snooped through someone’s desk.
30% of people are nervous to go out alone.
30% of people will decline to attend a wedding.
30% of people have dated a roommate.
30% of people will hate you.
30% of people have never been to a drive-in theatre.
30% of people will be replaced by AI.
30% of people have never built a snowman.
30% of people do not want to have children.
30% of people distrust science.
30% of people say they don’t know how to make friends.
30% of people leave something behind on vacation.
30% of people admit to running a red light.
30% of people don’t know how to drive.
30% of people don’t believe in God.
30% of people say they have never felt more alone.
30% of people think they’re great at small talk.
30% of people won’t cut and paste this.

#NaPoWriMo - day twenty one

I miss Prince.
I never saw him play live,
though friends and family have.
I admit to no small amount of jealousy.
I missed him here in Edmonton.
I would have loved
to see him play: Purple Rain, of course,
Controversy, The Cross, Kiss,
The Ballad of Dorothy Parker,
Starfish and Coffee…
but I really would have loved
to play basketball with him.
Something more personal,
intimate, human than a concert.
Pick and roll, fast break,
orchestrate. Defend, attack.
Set a screen. High five.
With or without heels.
 
And then pancakes.
Lots of pancakes.

#NaPoWriMo - day twenty

Dear Ms. Smith. Miss Smith? Mrs. Smith?
I only know you as poet, Patricia.
I’m reading The Intentions of Thunder
and I’m pummelled. Pummelled.
 
I’m drawn in by the language while
also distanced from it. I discover
how white I am. And Canadian.
I’m trying to hear the chorus.
 
How can a poem be so deeply rooted.
How does the voice move around
from body to body. Poetic forms
structure the narrative. Declare:
 
How poetry is always a witness.
What are we looking for. What
are you looking at. Are you looking.
How can you bear it. How long.