Charlie taught me "the going out seat" when he gathered he was shortly to be laid off. He named his chair the going out seat. I was so impressed with the idea that I've kept it probably twenty years. This is because layoffs are normal occurences in my particular marketplace. I 've had the privilege of sitting in the going out seat close to once a year for the last decade. My latest experience in the going out seat gave me the chance to write the poems I have been posting starting dated in late December and still here dated in February. I had two weeks of work in January and was out all of February.
The Going Out Seat
If I sat on that
chair would you strap me down tight
so I could take off
faster than light speed
and break through the barrier,
the razor wire strung
around my normal
life? Would you do that for me?
I need to go now.
February 2, 2009 8:57 AM
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Writing poetry is in part a matter of focus. What to do when there seems nothing to write about? Write about that...
Writer's Block
I can't write what I want,
have to settle for backing up
and saying I can't write
what I want.
This will have to do.
The dragons all went home.
I am left with their breath.
Dragon scat in my house
forces me to step carefully.
February 2, 2009 11:04 AM
The Space between Utopia and Apocalypse
6 hours ago