Writing Showcase

what can I tell you? no poetry remains
at the site of this crime, move along
all gas pumps are empty, no fuel
will be sold. if you proceed to the shoreline
they’re towing the old battleship out to sea

We drum as we watch death approach
Heralds of war, heart of the dance
Beat of mother, we hear that beat
before we’re born, we hear it every day

Imagine a time when blue sky
was unparalleled entertainment.
Canvases of old masters revelled
in panoramas of cloud and light

I no longer comprehend sticky tape.
My parents are dead. I have no reason to complain about them.
You never really escape high school.
Everything can be solved by walking.

My father would always tell me,
“When the winds are high,
the gales busting down windows,
when the heavens open, fire
pours down and people swear
it’s the end of the world,

Deborah says, swimming in a lake is so beautiful.
I say, it’s the antithesis of a swimming pool.
Which leads me to ask, what’s the antithesis
of a swimming pool? Is it a woman’s womb, life