Friday, November 28, 2014

Weekly Worded

        Record Breakers

Wind chill contains no predator scent.
It threatens with double negatives,
passes through walls like a ghost,
cracks glass without a sound.

It whistles a dirge,
not a melody that’s sweet,
accompanied by a rhythm
with the chatter of teeth.

Friday, November 21, 2014

Weekly Worded

        At the Pitt River Museum

Peering into the display,
my reflection floats between
the flightless lines of a last
feathered specimen behind glass.

The Dodo stares back at me,
its awkward beak and best foot
forward, all that remains of
the original shipped to Britain.

The rest is fabrication,
a depiction of what explorers
found more than 350 years ago
on Mauritius, an island 

500 miles east of Madagascar.
Unchallenged by predators,
they say, it stood three feet tall,
weighed forty fearless pounds.

On any given day the exhibit hall
bristles with visitors, cacophony
enough to shatter glass, but it's me,
not the Dodo, that flinches.

Friday, November 14, 2014

Weekly Worded

       A History of Luminosity

Sun, moon, and stars,
then coals, oils, and wicks,
tapers coated in wax, all this
before any wires hummed.

Still, the boy lies awake
in the near-dark after his mom
turns off the switch, his tiny nightlight
illuminating a 13.8 billion-year-old promise

that nothing could go wrong.
The blanket tight to his chin --
a backup plan should his brain
start glowing like a filament

after he’s plugged his thumb
into the old fetal socket.

Friday, November 7, 2014

Weekly Worded

        Election Blues

“You know what’s wrong with our political parties?”
“Not enough alcohol?”
“I mean the party system, the way citizens are vetted as voters.”
“I’m not sure, but if you’re going to tell me, I probably could use a drink.”
“Candidates are forced to align with one side or the other.”
“The other what?”
“The other party.  Pay attention.”
“Oh sure, two parties, I see.  Gotta go to one of them, probably should go to both.”
“Be serious, the integrity and future of Democracy is being unwritten by the party, not the candidate.”
“That sounds serious.”
“It is.  What a candidate believes is unintelligible and negligible.  The voter only hears the party line.”
“I hate party lines.”
“They’re the most generic, insipid, dishonest approaches to information that a voter can be exposed to.”
“I was at a party one winter and got exposure.”
“Don’t be stupid, I’m not talking about keggers.”
“Me neither.  I was talking about an art opening.”
“What does that have to do with politics?”
“One of the paintings was a flag done with ketchup, marshmallows, and eggplant.”
“Eggplant isn’t blue.”
“Yeah, I know, but it got me thinking.”