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September 18, 2016

Remember how upset some people got about this street art exhibit?
(a scathing poem raging against
the rich assholes who move
into cool places and destroy
the very reason they wanted
to be there)

The artists, who can
No longer afford
To be your neighbors,

Were painting about you
The whole time; the way
You destroy the world

With your greed,
But try to fit in
With us cool kids.

I am sorry creativity
Left when you chose
To rape her for a profit.

(California's on fire
and, Boston,
hasn't had such a drought,
well, since whenever.)

It is all your fault -
Each renovated brownstone,
Each lot built up
In the name of development.

We will move on to the next
Place - And you will be left
Alone without color, until

You stalk us, searching,
For the thing you gave

Up for profit and
$2,000 shoes.

This is Poem #167 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. 

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July 10, 2016

prescott-park-garden-3-susan-cole-kelly

Prescott Park 3 by Susan Cole Kelly

 

We always look for the harbor seal,

The one we saw that one time,

Five or six years ago. She swam

Around the moored fishing boats,

And schools of minnows. Under the shadow

 

of the Naval Shipyard,

The prison across the bay.

We were high on the visions of flowers,

Reaping ideas from their landscape

 

For our own cottage garden.

The benches, dotted in bird poop,

Are still welcoming and offer 

A place to sit while looking. 

 

Behind us, songstresses 

Practice their scales, directors

Block this summer’s musical,

And early arrivals lay blankets

 

Marking a spot near the stage. 

We have not seen the harbor seal

In these last five years, but

We check every time, just in case. 

5835965215_390ab2e9a2_z

 

This is Poem #118 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.

June 26, 2016

portsmouthpride

A human rainbow

Lights on Market Square – 

Visible from space

 

And the roof of the Book

& Bar. Triumphant return,

As from battle. (Make no

 

mistake. This is still a war.

Glitter bombs and shout

outs can only get you

 

so far.) The religious 

Arrogant were there. 

Represented by one,

A misguided soul, who

Thought her hate-filled

 

Sign would also make

A difference. She was

Encircled by a protective

 

Throng – blocking her

Message from the eyes

Of babes, fragile

 

In their identities –

Fervent in their passions

and own righteousness. 

 

This is Poem #104 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. 

img_0993

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