Write Poems
hunger is the secret ingredient
by Bogdan Dragos
like a baby left for
hours
and hours in a hot car
he
woke up
with a sweaty forehead
and a buzz
in his temples
no room to stretch
......
writing setup
by Bogdan Dragos
the screen
the keyboard
the small room
the closed door
locked door
closed window
blinders keeping
the sun away
a chair
an empty stomach
......
cheat code activated
by Bogdan Dragos
Well no wonder he kept dying
or the police
would catch up to him
in the first minute after hitting someone
or stealing a car. The game
was for big kids. It said so on the box. He
got bored despite all the things
he could do and put
the controller down.
......
town of forgotten poets
by Bogdan Dragos
there he was
arriving on main street
carrying a backpack
and a suitcase
both stuffed with
papers
“WELCOME TO THE TOWN
OF FORGOTTEN POETS.”
......
I'll Write the Girl
by Jan Beatty
The thing I'll never write is the green leaf
with its rubbery-hard veins, I'll never
write the structure exposed, instead
I'll write the girl picking it up, green leaf,
her pudgy hand & her wanting it, that's it,
because she knows the sky is full
of stumbling ghosts, & she's back in the cold
room, back on the dark floor, & along
......
to melt the shackle
by Bogdan Dragos
it wasn’t morning yet
but he woke up
to the sounds of cheering
and applause
He looked around
and saw
shadowy figures with
elongated faces
and bright, white eyes
......
town of forgotten poets
by Bogdan Dragos
there he was
arriving on main street
carrying a backpack
and a suitcase
both stuffed with
papers
“WELCOME TO THE TOWN
OF FORGOTTEN POETS.”
......
alive today
by Bogdan Dragos
there was a new guy in the park
among the homeless
He arrived just after the mayor had
eradicated all
the tents and improvised huts
and it was easy to spot him
He was the one who
always had a book in his hand, always
......
good and bad poetry
by Bogdan Dragos
Well,
after you write enough
and try to publish for long enough
you just notice it
There is no such thing as
good
or
bad
poetry.
There's just poetry to which people
......
hunger is the secret ingredient
by Bogdan Dragos
like a baby left for
hours
and hours in a hot car
he
woke up
with a sweaty forehead
and a buzz
in his temples
no room to stretch
......
