Poetry / Poets / Writers / Writing

Two poems by Perry L. Powell

What to Expect 

You can’t expect
just to come and sit
by the fire
and to know immediately
exactly
just what the smoke
is doing.

We align our lives across a table
green tea for you, coffee for me
as the dying world walks
across our plates
some winter evening, both knowing

you can’t expect to be snow
and stay warm.

 

Something

every day
something
the kid is sick
the wife is sick
I’m sick
the car has troubles
the AC fails
the toilet overflows
there was a burglary down the block
the boss isn’t pleased
taxes are due
the economy falters
somewhere there’s a riot
somewhere a war
a storm is coming
and God is dead
the past was a horror
the future unknown
the present is bleak, and

every day
something

but
every day
nothing
waits
for a turn.

 

Perry L. Powell is a functioning systems analyst who has recently relapsed into creative writing of various sorts after decades cold turkey.  His work has appeared or is forthcoming in A Handful of Stones, A Hundred Gourds, Decades Review, Haiku Presence, Indigo Rising, Lucid Rhythms, miller’s pond, Mobius The Journal of Social Change, Poetry Pacific, Prune Juice, Quantum Poetry Magazine, Ribbons, small stones, The Camel Saloon, The Credo, The Foliate Oak, The Heron’s Nest, The Innisfree Poetry Journal, The Lyric, and Turtle Island Quarterly.

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