The sky going round. The rainbows in chains. All you do is blame indigo. What dove have you loved? What sparrow has loved you? And yet you never say hi. I am a chain of rainbows. In my agony I curse my inner sky. I am the undead rainbow. I am a fool and I believe the lies of indigo. Then Monday comes. Like the ark of a javelin I must write a poem. In retribution I drag my futility and plow the illusion called earth. This...
When I was fifteen, I wrote a poem that earned me a spot in a writer’s workshop. I didn’t submit it, a teacher did. I was the youngest person in the workshop. I did not know it at the time but a special arrangement had been made for me after some degree of protest. I didn’t even have to pay. There was a girl, she was seventeen and apparently gifted from the way her poetry read. She paid. The rest of them were pretty much...
This humorous riposte to "Colorado Calling" by Alan Jankowski (Dirty Martini) not only employs the same rhyme scheme, but in fact rhymes perfectly with the original while telling the opposite point of view. At last he's gone, hip hip hooray!Let him go mooch off the cannabis cadre.No doubt he'll return before too long—(Given the bum's rush, the urge will be strong.) For too many years I put up with that snake,His easygoing...
