a brittle back
a restless heart
a race to see
which falls apart
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Coat check shift from hell
Haven’t written today’s poem
Oh, look, a haiku
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i dread becoming a chair
but my teacher insists.
a tree, a crow, a cow, a cat-
just not a chair.
he demands.
i invent a fury and i give it a home in my thighs
he whispers by my ear
“you are making yourself miserable”
yes, well.
rarely have I known any better
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Hi! Do you like my poems? I will be posting more of them along with prose (both fiction and non-) at this website moving forward:
If you have a Tumblr account, follow me!
Love!
-Daniel
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not that i am eager
for the reaper’s scythe
to cross the paths of
me and mine
but i have eulogized you,
one and all.
it is a game i play
when rocking back and forth
in subway cribs
or laying in the comfort
of a darkened
room.
(the chapel overflows,
weeping masses pressed into the
doorways, clamoring to mourn
and I! -
I. Am. Speaking.
summoning the grief of
legions out into the
stale, holy air.
my eloquence is
staggering.)
and then i return
to the moment – the F train
or my kitten’s purr or some
conversation that has
faded to a blur
and find
my eyes are wet
my fingers trembling
I know what it will be
to lose you
when you die
my magnum opus will be
ready, waiting.
though i don’t suppose
you’ll be around
to hear it.
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around 44th street
the voice came down
over the bus PA-
i could have sworn
it was Mrs. Hadley,
my third grade teacher
with the outsized
knuckles-
“assaulting an MTA Employee is a felony”
you could hear the ruler
in her hands.
so eager.
as if we were all monsters
as if each of us
was giving serious
consideration
to bludgeoning
that beaten-down wheel-spinner,
our charioteer.
as if we needed
to be reminded
that we were animals.
why not play
the sound of
screeching chimpanzees
instead?
i didn’t board this bus
to be admonished,
i was just trying to get
to the Upper East Side.
dry cleaning, briefcases
guilt and regret
we all have our burdens
lay your fears down
somewhere else
our hands are heavy as it is
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