featured in the poetry forum January 2, 2022  :: 0 comments

marked automatically;

life passing within four walls
a leaky faucet of time

the overgrowth of yard
before the window

effortless and green

a million sown fields of pokeweed
glowing pink for a moment
in the stillborn sunrise

it’s partly cloudy today
I am superimposed over this reality

there is rain in every imaginary forecast

time is a summer storm
before the windowpane

the blackberries of july will become the winter’s snow
before I am gone

editors note:

Predictions are prophecy when a finger in the wind can prove we’re alive. – mh clay

Railyards and YouTube plotlines

featured in the poetry forum June 27, 2021  :: 0 comments

they coalesce

in the monitor rays – the plot unplugged

a pine cone lodged in our throat – burnt open by canned heat – blue lubricant
expelled for lonely hours
ozone stench of mucous membrane

sounds of laughter wafting thru headphoned doorways

paused by unresponsive fingerprints

editors note:

Still, we try to discern rail from tube. – mh clay

i believed there wasn’t a sky

featured in the poetry forum November 13, 2020  :: 0 comments

the median stretched out like
the neck of an abandoned guitar
playing the endless discordant
song of broad street

sinking into the concrete shelf

we stood as ever older versions
of ourselves tuned through the
drug-like orange haze of street-light-

peering into our transparent lungs
the orange line shook underworld
thoughts loose sending them like
balloons through our feet

inhaling we grasped at the strings
but they were of too many to follow
too many to see

it was the last time looking up into
the blackness of the orb-like night
i believed there wasn’t a sky

editors note:

Grab on to that string lest you bounce off the not sky. – mh clay

the intake is exhaust

featured in the poetry forum March 27, 2020  :: 0 comments

cat leaves a lasting impression on
windowsill. the wind steals into
the room through the screen. not
enough to cool my sweat. the motion
of the cars outside is static. an accident
leaves a man groaning on the sidewalk.
a woman asks did you see?
I thought
it was a bumper, he looked plastic. he
was dying. if I’d seen it move then maybe.
a body leaves an impression in the
grass. cars continue crunching fragments
of glass. the impression is his last
breath. the intake is exhaust.

editors note:

It’s all plastic… until it’s us. – mh clay

standing along the road as cars pass

featured in the poetry forum July 6, 2019  :: 0 comments

headlights rise like moonlight
over the night

illuminating the trees
that shadow curve around each
wrong turn

the violet metallic tint of the car
marries the starless sky
the cityscape in the distance

the effortless
the dome of the world contracts

the vacant universe
a rush of gasoline fumes
the nothing earth

editors note:

Our effortless evisceration of earth isn’t nothing (yet). – mh clay


featured in the poetry forum July 5, 2018  :: 0 comments

they pulled the monster out from under the wreck

he was part of the requisitions team

arriving at the office he signed in at exactly 8:15am
exactly every day

the rescue crew transmuted sweat into tears

the cars along the riverbank refused to be turned away

each tree stood firm
buried up to their waists in sand

muttering to itself the beast fell apart &
into the future

there was a fragment of stone falling through time
untouching what can be seen
unbecoming what will be

with his last breath the monster grew skyscrapers from its eye

HR made a solemn vow

they would post the replacement job application on the web
before their tears could dry

editors note:

On an individual rampage for relevance; be sure to submit those requisition forms early and on line. – mh clay

Ad campaign morning sun

featured in the poetry forum January 11, 2018  :: 0 comments

the sun was a Pepsi-Cola sphere
painted over the tree line. hanging there
siphoning all the brown syrup color
from the river. washing every
man-made thing in highlights of
blue & red gold

the clouds were like an attentive waitress
come to take our order
as the table of the world was moved
& looking over the menu carefully
you raised your eyes
asking politely for a sunrise.

editors note:

Not something to be ordered on line, but delivered to your door, all the same (so long as your door faces East). – mh clay

this was the first time I’d seen gangrene

featured in the poetry forum April 27, 2017  :: 0 comments

this was the first time I’d seen gangrene

afterward I had a portrait drawn of me
I paid nothing for it
tho he only needed
15 dollars to grab a bed to sleep for the night
it was 100 degrees and the air

this was the first time I’d seen gangrene

it grew from his leg like fungus
hard as sponge
soft and death-like against the pants he struggled
to pull up
the color was dull
and muffled

I forced the thin white paper into my bag
knowing it would crease and tear
knowing it
would come to nothing in some trash bin

this was the first time I’d seen gangrene

editors note:

Disturbed; would draw the disease, while the disease draws you. – mh clay

…and the floorboards were golden

featured in the poetry forum December 1, 2016  :: 0 comments

so that you ran your tongue against them
carving and chipping bone and screw

so that you were forgetful
unable to piece together what had come before

so that you pulled your knees up to your chin
blind to dirt and dust and scruff and tar

so that you took to running knifed edges across grain
drawing up curled veins

so that each needled point penetrated the skin
and left glitters of light in their path

so that with each step the surface gave slightly sinking
marking your footprints your face prints your palms

so that at night it appeared as it did before
but for the metallic taste

so that even though your outside mildewed with collapse
the inside shone brightly in the sun

editors note:

Many reasons for the color of the floor. Name yours… – mh clay

Suburban Sprawl

featured in the poetry forum June 14, 2016  :: 0 comments

We each had good, green lawns.

There was this bit once, I tagged myself
in a photo in front of my lawn titled,
Just mowed the lawn #housework #weekends

It was featured on my Instagram page.

We each had one of those, too.
quite serious.

There was a time when I used a pseudonym
but I shouldn’t misrepresent myself;
luckily Facebook had me change it back.

It was the right thing to do.

We each had an online presence.
Tied to our life;
our job.

What you say or do online can impact you
in reality, it should impact how you live,
we all understand that.

It is the small price you pay for progress.

editors note:

On line is our new reality; so, mind your emojis. “It’s the right thing to do.” – mh clay