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August 2, 2016

What profound words
Must adorn the last 
Blank spaces above the lines?

Should I 
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Scribble my brain
Here as I have done
Each morning, since
Bowie left in January?

The (almost) last page.

This poem finished up a writing journal a little more than mid-project. It seems a little meta, but his is poem #137 of the Poem Almost Everyday Project. I started a new writing journal the next day.

As you can see, in the first draft of this, the writing really does go the other way. I did a little research to see how to make this happen in WordPress, but it looked like I needed to write in html code, which, well, I do not know how to start.

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I was tethered

But floating for months.

Work can do that to you.

 

I had a weak radio

Signal – thank God – but

I couldn’t bring me home

 

Just yet. Check ignition

and may God’s love

be with you.  I’d hoped

 

To make Sunday’s service,

But floating with no

Sunday best, it was impossible.

 

Somedays the tether

Was so taut

It would not let

 

Me float away and Doctor

Said drugs would

Bring me home

 

From this malfunction.

 

Can Earth fix me –

NASA help – when

 

I left my tools

On the kitchen counter

Next to a tall glass

 

Of water, waiting

To be sipped and instructions

So difficult for me

 

To follow?

 

Poem #5 of the Poem (almost) Everyday Project. These are second drafts of  pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state. Feel free to give useful critique.

People die.

Even Steve

Jobs and David

Bowie leave

the world – albeit

 

a different one

from when they arrived.

 

Innovators, life

changers,

their art has made

us better for what

they’ve made.

 

But the Cancer God

says – Now. Your

time is now

 

and the Earth must

learn to survive

on what you’ve provided

 

and to take it forward

from there. (Each of us

on our own,

 

a little hollow

and a little full

of what they

created and the vacuum

their exits inflate.)

 

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