The April Poem-a-Day Challenge left me so exhausted I neglected to post the snippets of the poems for the last week. Since then, I’ve finished a series of poems for a tango event and written a week’s worth a poems in a poetry cleanse organized by fellow VCFA alumna, KT Landon. I attending the reading for her new chapbook, Orange Dreaming, a few months back at The Cellar in Beverly. I’ll post more about my Boston poetry outings soon.
Day 23 Prompt: Last <Blank>
Goodbye kisses fly / left and right / and hugs linger / as if we might not / see each other/ next time. (Last Tanda)
Day 24 Prompt: Faith
When a runner doubles over / one of us will bend down / whisper You’re almost there/ then trot along the pedestrian / side of the barrier / until his legs pick up speed. (Marathon Watchers: Mile 23)
Day 25 Prompt: Love or Anti-love
I keep pieces of you / on the tip of my bones. (Safekeeping)
Day 26 Prompt: Regret
Our shadow dances / in slow motion, / and when dawn comes, / won’t leave a trace. (No Regrets)
Day 27 Prompt: Use the words pest, crack, ramble, hiccup, wince, festoon
A big donor sees a face among us he recognizes. / He’s a known reception pest, the kind who peppers / staff with budget questions as we sip our tasteless red wine. (At the After-Work Reception)
Day 28 Prompt: Smell
Medium / sometimes / hazelnut / brewed by 6 a.m. (How My Neighbor Likes Her Coffee)
Day 29 Prompt: Metric
We’ve taught the same way for years, / but some kids have never measured up. (Achievement Gap)
Day 30 Prompt: The <blank>
One day, the tulips / lifted their heads. / The next day, / their faces fell / wide open. (The Last April Poem)
Here are the opening lines from a few of the May poems
Siri: Sometimes if I listen without thinking, I can follow her directions.
Boston in May: Angled buildings vie to reflect the final orange rays of the day as sailboats drift along the Charles.
“But I Don’t See You as Black“: Oh, she’s in there. That gum smacking, neck rolling, finger wagging, please-talk-to-the-hand Black woman you think I’m not.