I spent the better part of this whole coronavirus thing getting back into poetry. Reading it, listening to it, writing it, going to readings, so many readings. The convenience of Zoom is such a revelation and a long time coming for someone that doesn’t love to be out in crowds for fear of catching a cold or a flu that could have me laid up for a month. …And that was during normal times. Now, thanks to this virus, there are no barriers, events are far more accessible. The sparks in the air may not be there, but the words and the performances by poets and writers penetrate the screen. That’s enough for me to be inspired.

So here are a couple I am working on…

Untitled for right now…

I have no words

I have no words

I’ve told all the stories

Sand blasted the faces of too many therapists, psychiatrists

With my pain

Words may not heal me,

But are they all that I have?

So I drop

Into my body

It’s an inside job

like a mechanic of the heart, mind

I descend into my solar plexus

under the hood of my heart space

tinkering with blackened hands holding wrenches and clamps

To find the broken places

Repair, close, closure

Let the light shine in

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Here’s a silly one about tennis…

Large yellow, fuzzy balls

Shot gun blast

Arm swinging like an outrigger swinging in a storm swell

Around hip

Hips crescent quick to crescendo

Pop

Contact

Across the net for a clean winner