Poetry – Page 16 – zakschafer.com

the guardrail takes a solid light and gives it a flickering

the earth spins just the same

i’m supposed to be mindful so i online shop

i can fit in to anything, i think

the first day of september

i am not
really even so
comfortable
with hugging.
but i’d like
to be.

if you don’t drink it quickly enough it will be warm before it’s done

rain comes in gusts.
wind comes in drenches.

mayonnaise on french fries

we are tired and we are tiring

a crowded intersection in northern Vermont

i celebrate four years of sobriety

in which people are tricked into thinking hoarding resources is anything but mental illness

to the bacteria inside of us we are the entire known universe

the music across the channel sounded closer than the music in the room

to ride a bike in a rainforest

ya well what else is there to do on a tuesday

a small town is affected by tides

in the Fall i go to northern Chicago suburbs to watch division 3 football games that ended decades ago

i don’t care what you think unless it is about me

these flowers were cut long ago, yet look at how beautiful they still are.

i had dinner with a friend and then nightmares about it later

an unhurried expression of phenomena

the many conveyances of the intrepid time traveler

i couldn’t tell if she could see me but then she waved

my vote is for the street to be closed all year

the sound we make when we do not make sound

it is not so much piety as it is an inability of words to describe it

it moves all by itself

i struggled to do the primary function of my job, which was a bit embarrassing

four more hours until it is time to eat and already there is hunger