Category: Poem-A-Day 2013

the shocking true-life inside story of Jason Crane

Jason Crane is tabloid’s tokyo bureau chief
Jason Crane is a member of american federation of musicians
            locals 66 and 660
Jason Crane is quoted in this
Jason Crane is the group’s hep cat
Jason Crane is currently in pre
Jason Crane is the station manager
Jason Crane is back and looks stronger than ever
Jason Crane is 16
Jason Crane is a ux researcher/designer & ruby developer
Jason Crane is the creator
Jason Crane is the host and producer of the Jason Crane show
Jason Crane is based in albany
Jason Crane is an interviewer and poet
Jason Crane is a doer
Jason Crane is an orthopaedic surgeon
Jason Crane is the host of the the jazz session
Jason Crane is coming to auburn
Jason Crane is coming up on his 300th jazz session show
Jason Crane is at cape town
Jason Crane is available for streaming on his site
Jason Crane is
Jason Crane is a brazilian
Jason Crane is a user experience
Jason Crane is going

/ / /

Another poem based on one of Charles Bernstein’s Experiments. For this, I used Googlism to create the list of phrases, then did some editing.

aftermath

riding the bus past puddles that
combined with the sound
I vaguely remember
let me know it rained last night
this morning, too
I’m still a sucker for the sound of rain
(“delicious” my friend says)
I rely on the sun
to dispel the darkness I carry
but it’s the rain sets my heart racing
shivers the nerve endings
on my forearms
brings back the feeling of you
like a limb lost in war
left on the dirt floor
of a makeshift operating room
under a dirty tent
on a hill no one remembers

19 February 2013
Auburn, AL

Listen to this poem using the player above.

big hairy armpits

Alabama
the Bible Belt
caricatured in
“sophisticated” media
as a land of men in
camo tank tops
and the women
who obey them

I feel lucky to be here
in the birthplace of
Nat Cole and Hank Williams
where Selma
Montgomery
Birmingham
are more than places
in a history book
they’re real
full of people
who still remember
what it was like
to bleed
for a righteous cause

my accent may give away
my status as an immigrant
but no one seems to mind
and none of my Southern friends
has ever made fun of the North

18 February 2013
Auburn, AL

/ / /

I wrote this poem based on idea #71 from Charles Bernstein’s Experiments. Don Levy suggested the title and topic.

when you leave

it should matter to someone
when you return, someone
should welcome you home

17 February 2013
Auburn, AL

/ / /

The idea in this poem has always mattered a lot to me. One of the ways I knew my most recent serious relationship was a good one was that my partner was always very happy to see me when I came back from being on the road.

constantly fellating Orion

I want to get a tattoo
of the constellation Orion
not on my arm or leg
or even my shoulder
but on my face
his right shoulder
above my left eye
protecting it from harm
his left shoulder
above my right eye
steering my vision straight
his belt across
the bridge of my nose
with the sword dangling
down my right cheek
and one of his knees
on either side of my chin
of course then I would be
constantly fellating Orion
which seems fair
in light of all the pleasure
his presence has given me

15 February 2013
Auburn, AL

to the students gathered on the concourse

I want to run into their midst
tell them to stop what they’re doing
ask if they’re truly happy
or whether they wouldn’t rather
be hiking in Colorado
or taking a rickety bus over the Andes
teaching English in Tokyo
or working on their paintings
in a rundown studio in New Orleans

I want to tell them these things
because I wish someone had
shaken me awake
when I was their age
told me to make a run for it
that the walls look high but can be scaled
that there is more to life than this
that in the end you will have to live with
even the choices you don’t make

14 February 2013
Auburn, AL

the women on the steps
(for Hal Smith)

where are the women on the steps
even in the photograph they look
like ghosts, haunting the Old Main

which of them died in childbirth
or caught some wasting disease
that is now no more deadly than a cold

which gave birth to strong sons and daughters
who in turn had more children who in turn
had daughters and sons of their own
in a long line running through today

which of us — in a hundred years —
will be little more than props on a tour
our names forgotten, our ghostly faces
haunting the afternoon thoughts of poets

12 February 2013
Auburn, AL

fish tank

his entire world contained within careful boundaries
he can only go so far and no farther
he can’t grow his own food, eating only what others provide
he spends entire days without speaking to anyone
people peer closely, trying to understand but failing
it’s not clear whether he’s happy or just making do
moving around and around and around in the same patterns

but enough about me
let me tell you about the fish

9 February 2013
Auburn, AL