Poem while sitting in traffic

This is how poetry happens. By noticing what you’re noticing. Not some crap about being visited by the muse. Just pay attention to what catches your eye, your senses, galls your sensibilities, your curiosity for language. And play with that, follow that. Even if it’s consternation about the name of a company while waiting at a stoplight. Click the arrow to read this here little poem.

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Brief Poem: Opening Doors

Most of my poems lately have been too long to post as pictures. Here’s one of the recent shorter ones. Occurred to me while walking around campus, wrote on my phone when I arrived to the next class. Click on the right of the photo to advance to the next part.

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Here’s a poem. Lately they are too long to post.

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