Keep silent. Do not

Draw attention.

We are on this earth

These short years –


Cycles of birth,

Peek, decay.

The flowers will

Wilt around you

And so will all

You have loved.


Double-doors replaced

With ugly fuel efficient

Models. The Tilton 500

Torn up and into

A chain hotel. Even

The drive-in will go –

Unable to afford the digital

Revolution. So we


Pay our tickets, and spin

On this ride, year

after year,

after year.

We pedal, and merry-go-round.


Eventually, jumping

Or pushed. The dirge

Plays on. Dance slowly.

But, dance.


This is Poem #50 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I decided for one year to wake mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee on each day that I didn’t teach. I was working part-time then, so in the end I wrote 241 poems.  These are second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.