week eighteen

_________________________________________

love and marriage

i think i should start being unappreciative and rude to people who make nice gestures for me. apparently that is a personality trait that is finally going to get me a man.

also. if on my wedding day, my father makes a speech in which he thanks his lucky stars that the day he never thought would come has come at long last, it may hurt my feelings.

dappled sunlight on a beautiful fall day is, however, a good omen.

sara thomas

_________________________________________

have you ever thought, "maybe i can't make it, and, even if i could make it, it's probably not worth making it?"

i recently had this thought... about creme brulee.

dane cannon

_________________________________________

macksie pads

i haven't written a poem in a while
as most of you have probably noticed
and the only excuse i have
is that every sunday night i get really high
from chasing cars and huffing their exhaust
i get so so tired and so so high from chasing those cars
and sticking my nose up their tail pipes
and i just forget to write something sometimes
so sue me

chris duce

_________________________________________

the collective conscious of the youtube all-stars

i fall off ladders,
tables,
and roofs.

i abuse my body and pride
for your entertainment,
a sacrificial clown.

i'm on demand,
eternal repeat,
now on iphones everywhere.

i'm the new ice breaker.
the party prop
of the millenium:

"have you seen my latest video?
the one with the electrodes?
no? well sit down and check me out."

i'll never make it big,
i'm the quintessential one-hit wonder.
but at least i'm a hit.

at least i'm a wonder.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

a series of one-liners that get progressively shorter and more pessimistic

"carving pumpkins"
in two days yours will have completely deflated and you will regret that big mess you made in the kitchen.

"never have i ever"
if you win we will congratulate you on being the most uninteresting person in the room.

"boys"
the only ones that are interested in me are either a) my cousin or b) have girlfriends.

"uncomfortable couches"
you're only making it that much easier to take things to the bedroom.

"miley cyrus"
did you know she is the same person as hannah montana?

"purple tights"
all i wanted was to cry when i ripped a hole in you today.

"thyroid"
it would be lovely if you would start working again.

"school" if i can't see you maybe you can't see me.

"xanax"
i stole one from my roommate tonight.

"kissing"
it still hasn't gotten old for me.

"yankees"
you suck you suck

"anxiety"
i hate you.

lindsay erickson

_________________________________________

i just can't see the difference

so what if it is halloween?
don't really care about halloween.
everybody loves halloween
but all i see
are people pretending to pretend to be
the things they really are.

maybe you will see some devil girls
with devil horns, and devil tails
or perhaps you will see a sexy cat
or a sexy nurse, or something worse.
but there are whores on other days
that barely dress and paint their face
bitter hearts and bitter taste
behind a mask of perfume and lace
their lips are red, their eyes are black
and they can't get their virginity back
even if it is halloween.

so what if it is halloween?
don't really care about halloween.
cause all i see
are people pretending to pretend to be
the things they really are.

maybe you will see some spooky ghosts
or zombies walking with the undead hosts
this halloween there might just be
some mummy men, or a skeleton.
but the undead walk on other days
they march along at a steady pace
soulless crowds without a face
that come and go without a trace
stone white ghosts in a hollow shell
wading through their own private hell
not quite sick, definitely not well
in a cloud of numbness that they can't dispell
even if it is halloween.

so what if it is halloween?
i just can't see the difference.

just s. guy

_________________________________________

i wish i didn't want to smash your face in.
i used to dream every night that we were in a kitchen.
and you hated me.
but then i said
"i really like your clothes."
and you smiled.
and we hit it off.
i tried that once.
i said
"i like your pants."
but you didn't smile.
you didn't even look at me.
you never look at me.
next time i see you.
i'm going to walk right up to you.
i'm going to make you look at me.
and i'm going to say
"i really like your style."
and you'll smile.
and we'll hang out for a while.
crocodile!

amber dobson

_________________________________________

two part[s] bird[s]

wednesday: i'm a peacock
. . . blue&green
. . . . . . feathers brown
. . . . boots


my knees knock when i stand

my knees knock when i stand. when i
walk. when i walk from no place to no

place. i'm sitting. and my knees are knocked.
do bodies notice? does the sand, the street,

the everyday road i take to get, notice?
i don't want to be noticed.

lucky charms

at 4am
the spring
4inches
beneath
my ear
pops
each breath

sarah cutler

_________________________________________

the test

so the other day i was driving

when suddenly

a homeless man stepped in front of my car.

i had to swerve and slam on my brakes.

i was irritated and swore under my breath.

then at the next red light i thought.

i thought that maybe this homeless man

had stepped in front of my car just to see

if i or society

still acknowledged his presence in some way.

megan morton

_________________________________________

jerk

hey you. stop it.
you put me in a bad mood.
stop with the power trips.
no need to be rude.

take a deep breath.
you really need to.
just sit down for a sec.
what's got you so blue.

look around the room.
no one is happy here.
you should think about it.
it's time you had some cheer.

sometimes this job is fun.
with you it needs some work.
don't mean to be so harsh.
but i really think you're a jerk.

liese rodger

_________________________________________

saturday morning

the saturday morning sun
shone
with alien intensity,
coloring the drab bricks
first pink,
then white.

but it seems no beauty
can erase
last night

not gold
not god
not a hot steaming stack
of buttermilk pancakes
dripping with fresh
country
butter

but her!

she smells
like cigarettes
and yesterday

she smells
like a street
i know too well,
like tacos
and diesel

she
smells
like
me,
so i won't ask
for anything more
than her emptiness

now she,
that one,
she might just do the trick.

lincoln wilder

_________________________________________

quite an interesting journey

going through old books
the titles of each seem to tell it all
the story of my family-
quite an interesting journey
"divorce for dummies"
"the divorce remedy"
"making love the way we used to...or better"
"raising children in divorced families"

reading these titles bring emotions to the surface
i thumb through old journals
i can't seem to help myself-
read the story of my parent's life
and reflect upon mine

it seems so ironic
reading words from my father
who commented on his father
and vowed not to make the same mistakes

here i am reading titles of books
on keeping relationships alive
on strengthening home and family
and i vow as well
not to make the same mistakes

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

week seventeen

_________________________________________

the downfall of traveling every week for work

while being on an airplane a lot
skymall magazine told me all the things i
didn't know i needed.

i begin to feel so sorry for myself.

i do not have a toothbrush that can clean itself
or a brownie pan that creates brownies only with edges

i do not have an electronic tarantula
meant to scare off other spiders

i do not have an i touch phone, let alone the two that would facilitate the dual charging device.

i do not have a baseball signed by pete rose
and my poor dog must have a strained neck as his bowl
is not ergonomic.

i do not have the case needed to talk on my cell phone while
scuba diving.

maybe most depressing of all
is that my bathrobe is not made of genuine turkish material.
it is just cotton.

my biggest concern with all of this is that
getting home is always a little less exciting after i realize how
inadequate all of my current possessions are.

megan morton

_________________________________________

the best blues are written in the fall

my roommate has been way too happy
to write any good blues songs lately,
but i have hope for him come fall.

blues written in the spring
have too much undercurrent of optimism,
surrounded by evidence of the after-darkness dawn.

summer blues are half-hearted, almost forced -
trying to pretend things are bad
during long, warm days.

and winter blues are unneeded, overdone,
like kicking the dead, honking in a traffic jam,
or burning a bent and broken building.

but the fall, that's a time for some killer blues,
when nature herself is saying, "yeah, we're all gonna die,
but we're going down in high style,

dressed in our best autumn clothes."


triple haiku on an autumn observation

if only humans
aged half as beautifully
as the dying leaves,

the cover of vogue
wouldn't waste any more time
with young, skinny girls,

but rather would show
some old centenarian
in orange and red.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

conversations: written down @ waffle house/served scattered

it was powerful, though, that girl, who is always at
the library and we smoke cigarettes with.
it didn't work. how's your painting going? -hmmmmmmmm
we must say deplorable. it is the word of the day.
i wonder if i used that in the right context.
-is that my laugh? yeah,-- is that mine?
do you want your trash straw?
and the rockets red glare
i thought about it the other day- how they cut down trees
cheese grits, cheese grits,
i want my song to play. i got a waffle, of course
i got a waffle.
you can sit anywhere you want.
i thought 'i saw the sign' was 'i saw the sun'
did you put syrup on your hash browns?
what is the best experience you've ever had?
-- take a minute
your favorite thing to do
i thought i was getting abducted once
i was listening to cat stevens,
people don't say their f's or t's
it was a vindictive waffle.
i hate that i'm curious.
my mother used to bring me to the morgue
and show me baby limbs.
i've seen at least fifteen. i was taught lessons.

jessie jarva

_________________________________________

i'm sorry

i'm sorry that my claw hammer
slipped from my hand
and stuck into the side of your dog.
some stitches will probably fix him,
but that patch of fur,
that tore away
as i pulled the hammer out,
is probably a goner.

to remember the day
let's change his name
to something that will remind us
that hammers and dogs don't mix.
i've got it!
let's call him "look out"
as i'm sure he'll forever
be looking for flying hammers,
particularly when you're with
any of your dirtbag friends.


it's okay

i could see,
as i looked
at the heel of your shoe,
that you had stepped
in dog shit
on your way
to my house.

you walked right in
like you didn't know
that shit and gunk
had stuck
to the sole of your sneaker,
and then you tracked it
through my living room.

i thought about
taking a meat cleaver
to your feet
and wrists,
and feeding the parts
to the pigs that live
in the neighbor's yard.

but i'm willing
to remain calm;
it's okay, really.
it's just dog shit
on my carpet
and as long as you
pay the bill
to clean it up
i'll give you back
your wife and kids,
unharmed.

lincoln wilder

_________________________________________

the a priori prize: how a winner is chosen by theoretical deduction

when he speaks his words are good...
he says we can improve this hood...
if we just act the way we should...
the intent cannot be misunderstood...
hmm, give him the nobel we could...

brad barth

_________________________________________

aw, here she comes again
with her wrinkled face.
blowin through her two front teeth
pullin up the roots.
screamin out the color...
green to gold to red to orange.
holdin in her hands
the coldest love we ever know.
her comes fall, she's makin snow.

holly jo hackett

_________________________________________

THERE WAS THIS GIRL, RIGHT? AND SHE WAS LIKE, SMOKING HOT, RIGHT? I MEAN, LIKE TOTALLY HOT. SO SOME DUDE WAS CHECKING HER OUT, RIGHT? HE WAS LIKE ALL LOOKING AT HER AND NOT LOOKING AWAY. AND HE WALKS UP TO HER AND HE'S ALL LIKE "I HAVEN'T SEEN A GIRL IN 4 MONTHS. YOU'RE VERY PRETTY." SHE JUST KINDA LAUGHS AND LOOKS AWAY. HE SAYS IT AGAIN "YOU'RE VERY PRETTY. YOU'RE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL I'VE EVER SEEN." HE DOESN'T LOOK AWAY THIS WHOLE TIME. HE'S NOT SMILING. HE'S JUST LOOKING AT HER AND TALKING ALL SERIOUS. SHE SAYS THANKS AND STARTS TO WALK AWAY. THIS GUY GRABS HER WRIST AND JUST KIND OF TURNS IT AND DOESN'T LET GO. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU'RE HURTING ME!" SOME GUY GRABS THIS SERIOUS GUY ON THE ARM AND TRIES TO MAKE HIM TO LET GO, BUT HE WON'T LET GO. ANOTHER GUY PUTS HIM IN A HEAD LOCK AND IS ALL LIKE "LET GO, OKAY--LET GO OF HER!" I REMEMBER THINKING AT THE TIME 'WOULD THEY ALL HAVE COME THIS QUICKLY IF IT WASN'T A PRETTY GIRL?" WHEN THIS GUY PULLED ON HIS ARM, IT HURT THE GIRL TOO, SO HE COULDN'T REALLY PULL THAT HARD. ANYWAY, THIS SECOND GUY PUTS HIM IN A HEADLOCK, BUT THEY CAN'T MAKE HIM LET GO -- HE'S JUST NOT LETTING GO. AND HE'S LOOKING AT THIS PRETTY CHICK--AND HE'S NOT SAYING ANYTHING ANYMORE. THE SECOND GUY IS PULLING HIS CHOKEHOLD REAL TIGHT, AND BY THIS TIME THE BARTENDER CALLED THE COPS. THIS GUYS FACE IS JUST GETTING REDDER AND REDDER, BUT HE STILL DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING, AND THE HEADLOCK GUY HAS ONE OF HIS ARMS AROUND HIS NECK AND ONE AROUND HIS FOREHEAD, BUT IN BETWEEN YOU CAN JUST SEE THIS GUYS FACE AND HIS EYES ARE JUST LOOKING AT THE GIRL, THE FIRST GUY SOCKS HIM IN THE STOMACH AND HE WINCES A LITTLE, BUT HE STILL JUST KEEPS LOOKING AT THE GIRL. THE GIRL IS TOTALLY CRYING AND ALL HYSTERICAL NOW AND HER FRIENDS ARE PULLING ON HER, AND IT'S HURTING HER, AND ONE OF THEM THROWS HER DRINK IN THE GUY'S FACE AND JUST STARTS SLAPPING HIM AND HE WON'T LET GO. AFTER LIKE A MINUTE MORE HE FINALLY PASSES OUT AND HE LETS GO. THE TWO GUYS HOLD HIM DOWN TILL THE POLICE GET THERE, BUT THEY DIDN'T NEED TO, HE WAS OUT. THEY JUST LOADED HIM UP AND TOOK HIM AWAY. WHEN HE FINALLY LET GO, I JUST REMEMBER THAT THAT GIRLS ARM WAS SO RED, LIKE HIS FACE WAS. YOU COULD SEE HIS HANDPRINT ALL ON HER ARM. YOU COULD SEE THE WRINKLES FROM THE JOINTS ON THE INSIDE OF HIS FINGERS.

dane cannon

_________________________________________