Apr 1
Time for Poetry
Posted on Thursday, April 1, 2010 in Uncategorized
In the U.S., April is National Poetry Month. It was introduced in 1996 and deserves much more recognition than it currently gets. For those of you currently in the U.S., The Academy of American Poets has an interactive map on its Web site that lists events for the month (and beyond). You can access the map at http://www.poets.org/page.php/prmID/382 .
We encourage our readers to write at least one poem every day for the month of April. That should give you enough for a chapbook by the end of the month. You should also read poetry daily no matter what month it is.
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Thursday, April 1 2:09 pm
If I could write
one poem a day
for an entire month
I could also lift
my weight in gold
and be acclaimed
by the housewives
union of the world
for my good looks
and not do (alas)
what I usually do
like a pensive fool
just standing lost
at the broken curb
and watching fly
the plastic bags
wishing they
were balloons.
Friday, April 2 1:22 pm
THE RESTAURANT TRADE
Everybody knows that
every table has a story
serviettes raised against
the fate of conversation
and we also know where
the food of love goes
that it’s at least as far
as the hand that feeds it
even further (we hope)
than the precious moment
when a soft taste buds
to bring in a burst of heat
and we even know about
the errant meal that’s made
with hatred all gone wrong
many years before it is set
upon the table — that spreads
faster than the thicket of
two fools when they meet
and maybe we know by now
many start by sitting down
their white bibs tucked in
arms spread wide with hope
but something obdurate
comes when love looks in
though it never serves them
and every time this happens
it’s so tragic and distasteful.
©ROB SCHACKNE (2010)
Sunday, April 4 11:15 am
She’s not particularly new
But she is particularly young
Who takes my simple order
And saunters to the counter
Looks over her shoulder at me
Lifts her shirt above the jeans
Scratches the ass that’s visible
And wisely I go back to reading
Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
Later she brings me Brazilian coffee
With the Jameson whisky I like
Goes back looks at me again
Turns her back brushes her front
She leans against a table corner
She’s rubbing it against misuse
Does her sweater thing again
And allows me even deeper
One thought straining to feel
One mystery is almost real
I return to my complicated book
Grateful a world I don’t know
Is still avidly connecting.
©ROB SCHACKNE (2010)
Saturday, April 24 7:45 am
GOING HOME
The day security cameras
caught her carelessly
knocking over another’s
parked and rusted bicycle
and just speeding away
also caught someone else
walking a bike (apparently)
very much the wrong way
in a wrong lane too slowly
thinking about the busted chain
the recent unexpected prize
all the favourable reviews
of his compassionate first book
“true to our difficult age”
and to neither one were
any sanctions applied
spring now salting new
growth on pruned trees
the day security cameras
switched off for the night.
©ROB SCHACKNE (2010)
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