Dumb Poems

cowdoggirlMy poems never rhyme. They do come out with a lot of assonance, but I’m not always sure about the “onance” part.

So here’s one about September 11 and a few other bad things:

It only takes
an instant and
everything
is forever
different.

 

This one is less depressing:

I work in the gorilla morning. When
the sunshine of my marker reminds me
of the lackadaisical sky, I can.
If the smell of linoleum and tux-
edos doesn’t blind you, nothing will, nor
would you want it to, till later maybe.
Now when and where you say, it goes that way.
Steaming coffee mingles with the rugged
mist and wafts of Sierra junipers.
Groundbreaker day, May 1988.

 

About Lyle Verbilion

I'm just wanderin' around lookin' at things. Wow.
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