Another year, another winter train with a box of black pencils.
Tired, hypnotised by perfect circles stirred into my morning coffee.
Beside a silent stereo the speakers stand,
humming to themselves.
Friday afternoon carhorn shouts “What a magnificent traffic jam!”
Mad at itself, brooding Winter walks about in circles, muttering.
In the shopping mall microclimate, noticing a lack of kigo.
Like everyone else on the Hell Municipal Council road paving crew, my good intentions to work on my current homework project has been subverted by a bunch of other stuff. The most useful of the bunch though was joining ReadWritePoem, an online gathering place for poets.
Amongst the many discussion groups, I rediscovered one whose topic is the American Sentence. The term was coined by Allen Ginsburg and it takes it’s queue from the haiku and the Buddhist Heart Sutra. If I’m not mistaken, the Melbourne poet Myron Lysenko coined the term Rooku with similar intent. (Myron, if you are reading, please correct me if I’m wrong!)
Either way, I’ve joined the American Sentences been inspired by the group founder who tries to write at least one a day (I’ll be attempting the same here and maybe on my Twitter account as well).
On Joining American Sentences group:
The Antipodean wonders if his presence here subverts the form.
Yes, I know. Still, it’s a start.
Reading: “The Last Night Of The Earth Poems” – Charles Bukowski
Listening: “Podgrams (Series 1)” – Stephen Fry