Sunday, August 31, 2014

Bad Poetry Day #3000

we head out
in the morning
on the long grey road
and the sky
is long and the
sky is grey and all
along the
road the wildness
grows, the flowers the
weeds the stuff
I don’t know, I
don’t know the names and
I don’t care
about the names
and the road is so
quiet so
still, we walk down
the middle of it
the grey lane
heading north then
back south, a poem
unspooling
in my head as
I walk, and Josie
is in his
world and my world
is this poem that
comes back to
me now in this
other time, this time
that will not
measure up to
that morning but on
the road the
poem flowed and
knew it need never
be written.

Part 2
for the first time in
days my heart does
not feel like
bursting and I need
to know if a
person screams
and no one is there
does she make a
sound?
My heart has felt like
a suicide
bomb about
to explode and it
might.

Part 3
Do we ever
know the path?

Part 4
This time,
when I travel west,
I want to take the northern route.
See North Dakota and Montana.
Fling myself, then,
south,
through Idaho,
Utah,
Nevada,
Sin City,
the desert,
hang a right,
keep going,
until I hit,
the ocean.

Part 5
The fog was
so thick we thought
it was snow.
Spiderwebs
covered the lawn.
Bounding deer
vanished before
we knew it.