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 May 18 Nostalgia
Nicole
I didn't hide it
But I don't want to find it
I do want to know what's in it
as long as I know how to write
these scribbles
after I read it
I don't want to think of
A book full of rules
When I read poetry
I still can't find my poetry school book.
Will the days
All fall away
Or is it
Just this one
Here to stay?
 May 17 Nostalgia
McKenna
I’ve grown up so much
Take my own blood for example—
I used black out at the sight
But now that I’m older
That’s a different story—
I crave the feeling
The way it goes freely
Down my leg and onto my feet
A trail of red in its wake—
Call me crazy, I’ve heard it before
But I’ve grown as a person.
I really have.
 May 17 Nostalgia
McKenna
It’s getting loud—
Can barely hear
I’ve been drowning
In all my tears
Words convincing
They cut like a knife
I’m barely wincing
Another: girl vs. life
It’s my head that’s the problem
It knows what it’s done
I’ve hit rock bottom
And it’s no longer fun
I tried to drown it out
But it’s tattooed in my brain
And it’s making me doubt
And now I’m in pain—
It’s getting loud in here
And I want it to stop
Everyone stinks of something
But not all can smell it
Dependant on your olfactory frequency
Is what gives the odour credit


Pitched above or below them
And they inhale in ignorance
But tuned
Right on the money
And they will look at you
Askance.
I can't find anything
Meaningful to say
To you
my former self.

And, if life is living the same story
Over and over.
I'd like this one
To end.

I've memorized the script.
The plot is atrocious
And I'm long past dead.

At the curtain call.
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                  Bring Me the Head of Peter Rabbit

My little dog has gotten into the habit
Of dining at dusk on delicious rabbit

Last night she blitzed past me as I opened the door
And left me a gift on the bedroom floor

I blinked when I saw at the foot of the bed
With its eyes still open – a poor rabbit’s head

Luna-Dog looked up and pawed at my knee
As if to ask, “Aren’t you proud of me?”

I reminded her gently (no need to fume)
That we take our meals the dining room
 May 17 Nostalgia
rick
selfish
 May 17 Nostalgia
rick
I’ve been at the helm on a rudderless ship
lost in a mercurial sea of deficiency
I could fly by the sit of my pants
with a suitcase already packed
on any given day
at any given time
at any given place
I was where I wanted to be
seeing who I wanted to see
doing what I wanted to do
despite my responsibilities as a father
or having to face the daunting tasks
that appeased my current girlfriend(s).
having no structure and no plan,
life was a timeline of formidable prospects.
I rather enjoyed it
quite nicely.
 May 17 Nostalgia
rick
party
 May 17 Nostalgia
rick
the
smell
of the
barbecue grill
taunts
my hunger pains
I walk on by
uninvited
with no place
to
go.
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