but aren't they all random?

A Pocketful of Poesy was a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog* up until the great derail of 2013. The impossibly-high standard of quality proved impractical to keep up, without a book deal. But don't take my word for it: click RANDOM and judge for yourself! And feel free to offer your critique.
*based on poem rate for calendar years 2009-2012. Also, kidding about the book deal.

Sunday, February 10, 2013


Whatever floats her boat
must sink the world,
or she's not satisfied.
What butters up her bread
must leave yours dry.
She takes it all: both sides.
What makes her bed - well.
She's not making it
with plans to sleep.

No rest, from wickedness,
my friend -
but if you find yourself
in her best interest,
consider yourself blest - and next,
prepare to weep.


I about can't breathe
from my crush on you
it's your shoulders, I think
or what glides above,
and what rides below
and what lies beneath
in a place within you
that my conscience can't

Saturday, February 09, 2013

"dead horses"

Another thing I don't get:
"dead horses," so-called.
are like "Why
do they have to keep
talking about this? Why
do they have to keep talking about
this? Why do they have to keep talking
about this? Why do they have to keep
talking about this?"

There's something wrong with that.

Like they're deliberately trying
to annoy you. And I don't get it, but
I figure - that's on me, for listening.
Let 'em ask. Let 'em talk. If
they were doing it deliberately
to annoy

well, that's as good a reason as any.
And that's on you. For listening.

People are gonna; so let 'em.
That's what I said. And that's what I
say. And that's what I'll say. And that's


are you listening