And Don’t Forget to Hang Up Your Sock

All the reindeer make machines of skins on Pennsylvania Avenue.
Thanks to my friend who showed me this game, I don’t think I can get enough.
It’s a phenomenal game for kids to learn and play and grow up within.
Owners are not too friendly but they do have the very best stuffing.
Unending love and happiness and love conditions us for these shorter days.
I know it’s a risky gambit, so thanks for checking in this season.

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And Don’t Forget to Hang Up Your Sock

There Is Only Our Reaction and Our Enemy’s

A yellow southern light was on my mind
when I saw the unowned outlines for lower grades.

An alkaline evening needed me to pick you up in a boat,
wondering who we were before at this point in time.

To ulcers and ultrasound we have sacrificed cold chickens
wrapped in an oilskin with more sour measles (or less).

Pepper and rice are not a recipe for immortality
and the children of silk are not yet coded to THE BOOK.

There Is Only Our Reaction and Our Enemy’s

How It Got So Late So Late

Considering that we were not interested in any other way,
we domesticated sheep, cows, dogs, fowl, swine, rabbits, and rodents.

Probably wisdom from the future holds a positive conclusion
but sock snacks should save sunscreen soaked skin spray.

Confirming that we are heading in an opposite direction…
ask them ahead about how well prophets can do it for profits
ask them ahead about the next few years
ask them ahead about digging up the time capsules and finding nothing but gang deaths and candidates;
nothing but good mornings and fun riots of blue-eyed luck.

How It Got So Late So Late

Purple Wizard Tales, Part 1: Whence Comes the Wizard?

More Poems About Purple Wizards and Our Neon-Bright Exceptionalisms is, first and foremost, a book of collected poetry. It’s also, however, an exercise in book design and, for some, an entry to participate in The Game of Poems. In an effort to promote the book and decompress a bit from putting it together, I thought I’d do a short series of posts about its origin story.

The collection began, as most collections do, when its mommy collection and its daddy collection met, fell in love and kissed. Then, 10 months later – POOF! – a little purple wizard was born.And the purple wizard was a sweet, little toddler and a charming young person and a moody adolescent and an inquisitive young adult and a stressed-out grown-up and a collector of facts and incantations and aphorisms and finally the wizened purple-spirited book appearing before you today.

Purple Wizards, as a concept, began with the poem “Royal and Wrinkled with Age”, though that’s the poem that winds up now closing the collection. That poem has a line, “The Purple Wizard stands on a barren hillside / facing the rising sun,” that worked its way into the book cover collage (which I’ll talk about in a subsequent Purple Wizard Tale). I’ve always been fascinated with the idea of the wise, old person, persnickety yet divine, seemingly frail but truly full of fire. The book itself may or may not be concerned with that fascination but, nevertheless, I do hope we all grow to become Purple Wizards in our own right.

If you’d like to read more about Purple Wizards – and our neon-bright exceptionalisms – I wrote a book about ’em! You can buy it here.

Purple Wizard Tales, Part 1: Whence Comes the Wizard?