Under the kids chatter The refridgerator hums, A grey, blue morning
Docks, empty in winter Sway gently with the incoming tide Awaiting summer
Inside, a guitar plays Soft, delicate strings of notes Outside, the wind cries
The dull hum of the engine Vibrates the seat below me, In my car, alone
Like Miles (almost, maybe) said, “Don’t play the Butter Notes!” Play the But her Toes!, Play the Hubbert Tones, Play Stutter Foes, Play the Muttered Throws, Play Rudder Woes, Play Rubber Soul, But don’t play the Butter Notes. Play one long single note and leave stage- We paid to watch you think. We paid for… Read More Poem of the Day 1/6/20
Just before the dawn, House lights reflect on the harbor The sky’s dark mirror
Found Poetry On a rusty fence In the projects, A poem. Sad and short, A fragment Of lost love. Printed on sticker, Pasted to a fence, Passed by, perhaps- Read, perhaps- A dandelion on a poorly tended lawn, A brilliant speck of color Against a mandated gray.