#2020 #2019 #lastpoem





the last poem written in 2019--riding a Septa train home from work and trying to capture the fleeting images as the train rocked along the tracks.  I had my little office depot notepad and my trusty pen out.  The new Septa trains provide a really rocky ride and my pen kept slipping from my hand and the already sloppy cursive began to resemble the penmanship of a serial killer.  I refused to give up the ghost.  The words must find a way onto the page.  My six readers are greatly anticipating my next piece.  I stare at the Schuylkill River and then observe the barren trees of Fairmount Park.  A couple deer trot along but fail to inspire verse.  Graffiti adorns the crumbling factories in North Philadelphia and a brand new mosque stands tall.  I keep thinking that I really need to capture the moment and bottle the quintessence of this city.


momentary lapse

trains have no shock absorbers

I suffer greatly


Author's Notes/Comments: 

self explanatory--first poem of 2020 is a haibun

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