1.
This poem is about something that resembles stomach pangs, the kind where you aren’t sure what is going on so you sit on the toilet anyway. I wrote it while having a similar pang while in a theatre watching a movie. I didn’t want to miss anything, the movie was so good, so I didn’t do what I just said one was apt to do when feeling such a pang. So I sat there, squirming to keep my attention off my stomach and on the screen. Once the film was over, I ran to the bathroom where I sat on the toilet for twenty minutes, with absolutely no reason to really be doing so.
I was warned about the side effects of certain medications I was prescribed. I sat there, guessing I was amongst a particular 8%, the percentage that experience gastrointestinal discomfort.
The poem, titled “Stuttering Engagement”, spends most of its time not being able to say anything at all.
Sh-sh-sh-sh-shou-shou-shoula
should I
sh-sh-should I
sh-sh-should I f-find
sh-sh-should I f-find th-
the n-n-near---------est
ex------exit?
2.
This next poem, called “How Places Are Like People Only They Don’t Move”, stems from a short time spent in Central Park on a sunny day. I was sitting on a bench, enjoying the sun and watching other people also enjoying the sun, each in their own way. I intended to just sit there and read a book, but my book never left my bag.
How Places Are Like People Only They Don’t Move
A track, a path, people who walk and ride.
A bench, bolted to the ground.
Cart the tapering of the tender amnesia.
3.
I love to hear about John Cage’s 4’33”. I love hearing descriptions of various performances, the conditions of them, the audience in attendance. This next poem is my own performance, put down on the page, of 4’33”. This is the look of sound on a page.
“
“
4.
I heard from a friend that he was going to Boston for a few weeks, that he always wanted to go to Boston but had never been.
He was excited to hear the accent for himself.
Where would you like to go most?
Your answer here:________________________
