04 November 2007

Response to October

silence,

is a

poem.

92 comments:

Anonymous said...

An entire month compressed

Anonymous said...

a poetic movement

Anonymous said...

not disappearing, but
becoming complete
emptiness so that

Anonymous said...

an explosion can occur.

Anonymous said...

i believe it could be some form of
saving.

Anonymous said...

That seems too cliché. Are you going to call a month off
a tea kettle or images in a poetic bank collecting interest?

Anonymous said...

No, just saving others from bad poetry
avoiding the month of leaves falling,

Anonymous said...

already a feeling Chris falls back on
way too much

Anonymous said...

It’s comfort.

Anonymous said...

Not for anyone else reading.

Anonymous said...

Maybe it's pulling your
car over on the way home,
or rather when visiting home,
after dropping your love off,

rainy roads reflecting,
mirroring the drive
in blurry memory

stealing that time
pulled over,
where cars passing are amplified
by water,

to write.

Anonymous said...

A windshield wiper movement,
a clarity between lines.

Anonymous said...

A function of recording
before memory loss; a taking of
notes in small capital letters
about hockey cards
& Eric Clapton set lists.

Anonymous said...

Honey bunches of oats cereal every morning
with tea.

Anonymous said...

Trying to read books on bees.

Anonymous said...

Trying too hard, a balloon head.

Anonymous said...

When writing becomes less word working
& more composition in space

Anonymous said...

Can you reshape a page?

Anonymous said...

the lines in a face
how your father smiles

Anonymous said...

enjoys romantic comedy
& the office

Anonymous said...

fear of not getting a poem
(memory) right

Anonymous said...

a failing |falling| in formatting?

Anonymous said...

planning takes over

Anonymous said...

not following through

Anonymous said...

or work getting in the way

Anonymous said...

loss of self-editing abilities

Anonymous said...

an absorption of book candy
to get the mind

a sugar high

away from the
picking & packing of the warehouse

Anonymous said...

useful,
common everyday imagery

Anonymous said...

tire tracks folding frosted grass

Anonymous said...

Where is the line between
journal entry & poem?

Anonymous said...

a coffee machine grinding

Anonymous said...

catching mice
daily.

Anonymous said...

A blinding of spoken word

Anonymous said...

peanut butter smells like death

Anonymous said...

devoted mid-western children building a society
based on worship, producing ethanol, & corn

Anonymous said...

I would say misguided,
& they mostly just took over
not planting anything but
misinterpreted words
woven in-between the rows

Anonymous said...

a reference from the radio

Anonymous said...

selling soul to temp service,

again

Anonymous said...

route 476

Anonymous said...

he sees his shadow & stays indoors

Anonymous said...

or scribbles or seeds or sentiment

Anonymous said...

becoming a Facebook
stalker type

Anonymous said...

i heard it on NPR

Anonymous said...

is this workable
at a poetry reading?

Anonymous said...

there is some type of misplaced
energy in the whole construction
fervent believing children,
agriculture, terrible animation,

layers that distract

Anonymous said...

but without coffee,

no.

Anonymous said...

you have to write the parts
that don’t fit

to find what (maybe) works.

Anonymous said...

So you suggest building
shitty structures

in hopes that one won’t collapse?

Anonymous said...

that’s the beauty of this whole experiment

Anonymous said...

a trick, a gimmick

Anonymous said...

structure, “form gathering force”

Anonymous said...

when looking for a poem (meaning)
& all you find is “loopy language.”

Anonymous said...

a sincere pumpkin patch

Anonymous said...

a sub-prime writing scandal

Anonymous said...

a collection, a kit, a set of reflective
& self referential texts

Anonymous said...

who tries to be a poet these days?

Anonymous said...

It’s much like a football,
pulled away at the last moment

Anonymous said...

a silence, a fall

Anonymous said...

we carved pumpkins
left on the deck
one day later
a groundhog snack

Anonymous said...

travel from point A to B by way of interjection

Anonymous said...

sometimes the GPS is just wrong

Anonymous said...

more likely borders, experiments,
an openness to hear degrees of truthiness

are closed.

Anonymous said...

not without strong reading habits, scrutiny,
and proper government documentation

Anonymous said...

because you listed poet on your passport
are you more likely
to be detained at the border
or
more likely to word your way out of it?

Anonymous said...

bi-weekly crossing between states requires no such
documentation

Anonymous said...

still, you won’t be allowed into New Jersey
if carrying the works of
Amri Baraka

(where legislators hold him)

Anonymous said...

what would Jesus do?

Anonymous said...

find a pumpkin patch

Anonymous said...

walk in circles to pick the proper parts
starters | alternators
writing poetry between the order lines

Anonymous said...

how good at your job
should you be

for $9 an hour?

Anonymous said...

a hiding space

Anonymous said...

stealing minutes

Anonymous said...

a passage of time

is a

Anonymous said...

retracing of steps,

jamais vu

Anonymous said...

the strangeness of returning
to places you never left

Anonymous said...

New Jersey (NJ)
Pennsylvania (PA)
Rhode Island (RI)

Anonymous said...

book swapping across borders

Anonymous said...

freelancing retirement

Anonymous said...

The content is not
important, it's the process

Anonymous said...

but how much of that process can really
be reflected
in a three line poem?

Anonymous said...

the line about content
was culled from an argument
with Doc

(to prove a point about Cherylin
not being a hard enough worker)

Anonymous said...

universal applications

Anonymous said...

or coincidences.

Example:
a movie about a writer from New Jersey
who finds love in Rhode Island

(see Life Story XV & forthcoming poem.)

Anonymous said...

moving images

Anonymous said...

cleaning the shared house
because nobody else will

Anonymous said...

So you are saying this poem
is just an emptying out
of a month’s worth of garbage?

Anonymous said...

days spent on interviews

Anonymous said...

a line drawn
through days

not worked

Anonymous said...

waiting each year for the Great Pumpkin

Anonymous said...

who never arrives

Anonymous said...

you must have faith in something

Anonymous said...

or silence,

spoken