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Monday, April 28, 2014

National Poetry Month, Day 28: Slouching towards May

National Poetry Month, Day 28, and no Gwendolyn Brooks? We not cool.

THE POOL PLAYERS.
SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.

We real cool.
We Left school.
We Lurk late.
We Strike straight.
We Sing sin.
We Thin gin.
We Jazz June.
We Die soon.

And in today's Writer's Digest Poem a Day challenge:
... write a settled poem. Settled can be a good, relaxing thing; settled can be an accepting something that wasn’t your first choice thing; settled can be coming to a stop; settled can be pioneers in a strange land; and so on. With only three days left, don’t settle for less than your best.
We've taken a stanza from a poem we wrote last year, shook it all up, and this came out. It makes little sense, but we've settled anyway.

Settling

So minutes slouch to day's end,
death, taxes, a work day;
work’s no excuse. Love of work.
The blood singing in that.
I’m trying to make it work.
On the highway
home from work passing
the fields of the
river lowlands, the
planting, the leaving
the rows to their growing.
Making it work,
love of work,
the blood singing in that;
so minutes slouch to day's end.

I have my reasons:

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