43rd Week of Poetry

August 21



Or Katie Lea Burchill

Or Katarina Waters

Katarina Leigh; I have to be honest here,

I do love you.


August 22






August 23


IRS online transcript forms always give me a bother

I mean am I alone or am I wrong?

I sure hope not


Working for nothing

Nothing for working

Sweating at a desk

Air clotted with paper and tax returns and potential audits

(And potential lives to ruin)

And you work there for forty, fifty, even sixty years,

and you do what’s right and,

Before you realize it, you’re canned

Hit the bricks, toots or grandpa, you’re history

What kind of a life is that, right?

I’ll never do that

And I hope you can escape a fate like that, too


August 24


Four cheeses

Open the bag

Take a whiff

Think about life

Stream of consciousness

Open the bag again

Remember it’s four cheeses

Love life again


August 25


Life goes on

And I must atone

For my poor poetry skills

Skills that don’t rhyme too well

So I guess I have to get a job to pay the bills

I guess my poetry gig is up: I guess I have to find out what to sell

Sell a part of me, maybe?

Or maybe sell my poetic baby

And maybe, that way, I can make it in this world

I doubt it, of course

I’ll never be front-of-the-line for a well-funded smorgasbord

And maybe I don’t deserve it: a world as chaotic as this, and I’ll just stay swirled

Up, Up, Up and away, another day:

So, here’s to you, and to me; In this crazy world of ours, I’ll stay Gaye.


August 26



to the




August 27


Another week to wait

Jesse knows

He knows




Vacuum Cleaner Salesman

Left Alone

Left Alone

Left. Alone.


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