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Writer's pictureLaurel Creighton

3 poems on a very bad day

Updated: Nov 6, 2023


I

Like a book on the subway tracks

That somebody forgot to read

I, too, am filled with discarded knowledge

More esoteric than academic

My simpering wastefulness

of my meandering stances

And hoping; against reason

That someday you pick me up and use me

And turn my pages

And crack my spine



II

I am riding towards the station

And am feeling rather fat

But I can feel the sunlight on my face

Lessened by the brim of my hat


What does it mean to be authentic

I try to figure it out in our weekly chat

But if you ask me how I feel about it

I'd say it's determined by combat


III

Since your death I’ve been able

To do all the things I did before

And Maybe even after,

I’ve been able to do more


I see the men around me

Whose lives are but a snore

you’re in the man I run to

But Your poverty is my lore


And I’m here to make the most

Of the guts you could not gore

But I’m angry and I’m vicious

That in strangers I implore


To teach me things you wouldn’t

Or couldn’t get to, you know, before…

But in News From Home I know you’re there

In flashing fragments of 24



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