Category: Miz Q
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Day 1.1 NaPoWriMo
What words need saying to the needle that your foot finds in a haystack. An American Sentence, 17 syllables.Miz Quickly’s Nov 1, image above Writers’ Digest Uny, PA Day 1 Correspondence.
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Day 1: NaPoWriMo 2021
I.An Invitation from the First Day of November I am November, the crossoverinto winter. The start of months that I will drag on slow as clay.Slow as a long curve. Slower than ditchwater with scumshivering on top. Winter, slow as lamented loss.Winter, when grief slows time. Slow, slow as damp plaster’s chill,or as vacant as…
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Miz Quickly’s Anomalies
It’s Pouring Down From Everywhere It’s pouring down from everywhere,pouring into the stream, and it’s risinghigh as the track that cuts the field, and I read a while ago that magnetic polesmight shift. Move like. North to South.Used to worry me sick-ish, even thoughI didn’t know what it really meant. But today I saw rain…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 31: Dress-Up Day
A Conversation with a Green Tomato I’m all green and hard to my core,dozing on my back, here in leaves. But I want to get out of this place,get out of this heat below glass, into some cool quarrelling bar,talking up some big tomato oreasing up to some beefy sort, or a right spicy Bloody…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 30: What Scares You
What Scares You It’s a face in that drear and dark. Voices in the walls, a face, its pale skin of dimly shine.Is it you with sunken eyes?A face. A head with tresses lank,staring there in vapours dank. Written for Miz Quickly Day 30: What Scares You, and inspired by C. Dacre’s poem Mildew.…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 29: Once Upon A Time
A Giddy Bit of Bedlam Once upon a time, the gardenwas red and yellow, gaudy,blistering and indestructible.But this is October’s end. October is for storage, sugared fruitand blanched beans. For blossomsthat flop into the periphery of winter.For fern and flower in doddering rain. I watch low stars frosty in the sky,and the moon bald and…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 28: Colombia
She’s Dancing in Colombia Hear the rhythm, the beat,her feet are carried awayby the sway of his guitar. Her skirt is full, in a swirlof solar sails, and herviolet scent fills the air. She loves kissing secrets.She loves seducing his wit.A blossom in morning rain, and she’s still on her tiptoes,a spin on her heels,…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 27: Linking Stanzas
Blow On Through A glass of tepid water and two aspirin.There’s that old crow pickingmy skull into tiny bones.A simmering cranial gap on a steep slope. Bare trees.A footbridge pinned downin reeds and a shallow creek.You’re a kingdom of rot.Creak in my bed. Uninvited. You gave no signs, you justpicked a…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 26: Fix It
Drip Off the corner of the house,from the gutter, raindrops fall. Spilling over, drippinglike clapping clockwork. Water carves rubble to dust,don’t you know. Persistence. Drip. Drip. Hypnotic. Meditate on it.Be tortured by it. It drips into ditchwater.Into a howling gorge. Drip. Drip. No cure for thirst, though itcould scrub…
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A Second One for Miz Quickly’s Day 24
Like A Torn Manuscript it’s raining like someone died.not that I’ve ever been to a funeralwhere it rained, although there was that cold one with wind blowingstraight off the frozen Søby Fjord.roses thrown on his grave, froze. that fjord was still frozen when wereturned. same church. same grave.his wife died 2-months after him. or the one…
It's Still Life 