June 29, 2016

Panic! At The Disco has 

A whole new rhythm now –


When alarm at such venues

Is warranted. Security


Tighter than your leather  

Pants, Brendon, or at Logan


Confetti guns and fake

Smoke, once harmless-


Seeming, really, now stir,

Even just a little, our


Own anxiety – is real.


Would you have chosen

This name after Pulse


And after Paris? You

Grumble when asked


The origins of your name,

But all know great care

Goes into the selection. 



This is Poem #107 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.