When the pandemic happened and I found myself sitting around alone in my apartment all the time, I decided to try a new daily writing project: “Poetry or Something Like It.” I write at least one a day and post many of them to my Instagram page. Here are just a few of about 300 or so, many of which are also in my poetry collection Many of These Could Have Just Been Tweets.
Hang On
I have love handles.
But I can’t handle love.
I Thought This Was Worth Sharing
I was going to take a break
from social media starting
today but I haven’t finished
drafting my social media post
to all my followers about how
I’m taking a break from social
media and I’m kind of tired so
I guess my social media break
will have to start tomorrow.
Forever Ago Thoughts
I was gonna go to sleep
but instead my mind decided
to think about a bunch of things
including the time I was running
full speed and turned my head to
check someone out across the street
and ran straight into a stop sign pole.
She heard the “bonging” sound then turned to
see what had happened to me. Hey, at least
I made her laugh.
Finding Comfort
Interesting and somewhat counterintuitive,
and not in a good way, how some of the
people who carry a heavy, wearying
sobering, somber and inexplicable
weight are the people who need
weighted blankets the most —
and still somehow manage to
wake up throwing ’em off their
still unrested bodies to go
ahead and fight the hardest.
Light Insomnia
I’m pretty sure
at this point that
I’ve watched every
single second of all
the episodes in each
season of the captivating
series called “My Ceiling Fan.”
Obstacles
Logistics
and timing
are the enemies
of love.
A Follow-Up to the First Line
At this point
I’m made up mostly
of Mountain Dew,
melodramatic moods,
Skittles, screen time,
whiskey, a tiny bit of water and
several varieties of weakness.
Still want to go out sometime?
Wearing In / Wearing Out
I have had the same
several pairs of jeans
for the past five years.
They were not skinny
jeans when I first
purchased them.
Things change.
People grow.
This Is 35
I feel it
in my bones.
See the lines
on my face.
Observe the hair
in my sink —
the gray in my beard.
And I could not
care less.
Listen Up
You don’t
always
have to
do what
you can.
Fitful Slumber
If my dreams
really came true
my life would
be an extremely
fucked up
nightmare.
Not an Ad for Burt’s Bees
I can’t seem to sustain
a relationship past three dates
but I have managed to finish
three consecutive tubes of lip balm
in their entirety without losing them.
This could mean nothing.
It could mean everything.