30 Poems in 30 Days

30 Poems in 30 Days
A Project for National Poetry Writing Month

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Day 20 Voice of a Relative

John Mincarelli

His spoke in whiskers.
He spoke brandy at night and
quarters hot from his pockets
to our palms in the afternoon.
His voice was a tractor, an ancient barn
folding in on itself, old hay, a crust.

Day 19 Seashell Names

Incised Moon

Always on the cusp of it.
I'll give you a sand dollar
for your bottled message.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Day 18 Ruba'i

no pining
no whining
in this heart
on which we're dining

Day 17 Sensory

Once, the beard mattered. Its salty scent.
The silver bits catching light.
The tips of my fingers warming
in its depth.

Day 16 Ten Confessions

It wasn't me, it was you.
I had the money.
Fifteen in one year. Yeah, just fifteen. 
I didn't not mean it.
Not a miscarriage.
Didn't read it. Nope.
Not allergic, just hate the way you cook it.
No protection.
Throwing up daily.
It's you.  It's always been you.

(The prompt was ten lies; but I decided the confessions would be more fun.)

Day 15 Terza Rima

trapped laugh



Monday, April 14, 2014

Day 14 Questions

What Price Bananas?

Albino tarantulas in Fulton, Kentucky?
The crawlies crawled out from the banana train 
boxcars and made for the bars downtown?
An urban legend? 
A point of pride?
Your podunk town, arrived?

The world's largest banana pudding. There.