When They're Down (Colorized)
October 26, 2019
October 12, 2019
Dark Red Mask
October 10, 2019
The Lonely Tabernacle
September 26, 2019
September 23, 2019
August 1, 2019
October 27, 2015
I am a charred cabinet.
The quiet of toast burning, interrupted
by the smoke alarm.
I am a scattergram with no best-fit line.
I’m a rubber band ball, a broken
I’m a rusty appliance, a wooden spoon.
Is this how it works?
Plug me in, please.
I am alphabet soup without any vowels.
I am the plastic part of a shoelace.
I am a piece of tape that’s lost it’s stick.
I’m lemonade without the lemons.
Who asked for a presence like mine?
I can’t flow down steps like I should.
It takes longer for me to bounce back.
My steal turned out to be duct tape.
My ripped jeans were not purchased.
Wouldn’t you like to need me?
I’m the odd collection you find in the
drawer next to the refrigerator.
I’m the chapstick you’re happy to find.
I am the organic memory you shelved.
I am the imperfection you can’t live
I am infinite.
I am limited.
I am miscellaneous.
June featured poetry
Mark Theodore Meneses
November 2019 (4)
October 2019 (12)
September 2019 (18)
August 2019 (1)
June 2019 (13)
May 2019 (17)
April 2019 (21)
March 2019 (19)
February 2019 (16)
January 2019 (16)
December 2018 (25)