Tuesday poem #414 : Courtney Bates-Hardy : The Walk to Work

 

 

A senseless man  
lying in the street with his leg 
inside out. I saw down to his bone— 

shocked shade of white against  
the black asphalt—it had never seen 
the sun. The glass on the bus window 

was cracked up to the sky, and I 
watched my co-worker exit, stop 
to take in the scene: the man, 

responders on their knees, his leg 
reaching back towards his body, 
and then, seeing nothing 
she could do, continue 

the walk to work. As I followed, 
the man’s screams awoke and rose  
higher and higher above the street.  

 

 

Courtney Bates-Hardy is the author of House of Mystery (2016) and a chapbook titled Sea Foam (2013). Her poems have appeared in Room, This Magazine, and the Canadian Medical Association Journal, among others. She lives in Regina with her partner and their cat where she is currently working on her second collection of poetry, tentatively titled Anatomy of a Monster. 

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

 

Tuesday poem #413 : kevin mcpherson eckhoff : feels like I haven’t written a poem in a long time, / but if I had it might’ve looked something like this

 

 

last week our dog couldn’t walk
and these words think they want
to become something more
than a poem but I can’t stop
thinking of this news article
I read a month or so ago about
a 12-year-old boy who died
locked in his room without
food or a toilet the windows
boarded over by his parents
while the rest of their kids ate
dinner and watched TV and
went to school whatever our
internet cuts out at random
which makes working from home
difficult I try to drink enough
water each day but it just seems
to go right through me stupid
poetry every season a handful
of new birds smash headfirst
into one of our large windows
and the garbage always needs
to go out my 5-year-old has
worn the same Pink Floyd shirt
every day for 8 months although
now it’s only sleeves and collar and
he has a panic attack every time he
tries on a different shirt when is
this poem going to end our well
doesn’t produce as much water
as our family needs you can see
a glass frog’s vital organs through
its skin according to Okanagan
College’s standardized grading
system 76% equals a B-plus today
Laurel brought home a small
box of ashes and we have half
a prescription of Deramaxx

 

 

kevin mcpherson eckhoff is a writer, teacher, editor, comedian, and actor. His work has been anthologized in The New Concrete and Why Poetry Sucks and Experimental Praxis. His most recent book is their biography (BookHug, 2015) and his fifth book, The Pain Itself, is forthcoming from Insert Blanc Press. He appears in Sean Braune's yet-to-be-released directorial debut, Nuptials, with Ariana Marquis. He currently occupies the traditional Syilx territories where Okanagan College pays him to gab about words, bookmaking, and acting with rad student folks. 

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #412 : Brandon Brown : MY FUNERAL

 

 

I guess that’s my last party
so I’ll do what I always do
at parties: bum too many smokes,
drink too much, stay too
late, talk too much, say
too much, cower in the
bathroom, hover on the
porch, hug everyone,
look terrific, disappear,
forget most of what I said,
smoked, drank, did,
sleep in the next morning,
write a text to the hosts
to say thank you for
that magnificent party
see you soon I hope

 

 

Brandon Brown's most recent books are Work (Atelos) and The Four Seasons (Wonder). He is a co-editor at Krupskaya and edits the zine Panda's Friend. He lives in El Cerrito, California.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan