As American As—Flarf

This almost winter of apple pie and discontent

In some typology by using subs sign

Made of tightly packed snow, a rapid flow down a slope

Like fragments full of holes

Set off spontaneously from heavy equipment in action

Only given two parameters

.

We are together to be hazards to life and property

To fray the range of eternity

And teach forming a powder snow avalanche

And return anew in the grey

Though they appear to share some similarities

Faith in algebra can subtract

Any mountain range in spring or winter

Substring of almost winter

***

FLARF is a wild style of poetry that started as a joke. People noticed that no matter how bad your poems were Poetry.com would tell you that you had won their poetry prize. Then, they would try to scam you out of your money. So devious poets started sending the crappiest poetry they could write to Poetry.com. Even that would win the poetry prize. These poets began sending each other their crappy poems, and eventually it became a legitimate poetry style. If you want to read more about the FLARF or any of the other poetry terms, check out the glossary of poetic terms from the Poetry Foundation at: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms

Google painting is a type of collaging that primarily uses internet search results and Google’s search prediction capabilities to generate quasi-random phrases. The technique helps jumpstart creativity with strange juxtapositions, broken syntax, and internet speak.

New Year as the Partygoers Head Home—Free Verse

I woke up to a blanket of white through the window

Like a winter’s greeting card of snow slowly melting in the driveway

And the roads like winter’s people confined in brackets built up by the plow.

An idyllic landscape of a life tucked between white trees.

And the light dusting over the blacktop broken by tire tracks.

The neighborhood’s partygoers finished sleeping it off and went home.

And I wondered if they could appreciate the scene.

This year, I celebrate with cornbread and cabbage

And had a whole different smell of hangover.

***

A free verse poem has no set pattern for line or stanza length. Rhyme is not used, or it is used sparingly. The line length and the rhythm or the lines are dictated by the natural rhythm of speech or other concerns such as emphasis on a particular word, image, or idea.

December Poem 1: Who Cares for a White Christmas?

With each drop of snow, the bough would straighten

A little closer to its former height

In short increments like the stiff back of

An old peddler who had just let down his

 

Pack. And the sun reflected like shaved glass

Off the boughs heavy with snow that broke loose

In the field of white to unwrap more green

And to fall in clumps like comets followed

 

By a tail of drifting powder. The green

Struggling to hold to life in the frozen

Desert of white. Life more beautiful and

Mysterious, the evergreens had a

 

Natural giftwrap decorated to

Rival the pale imitation held so

Proudly decapitated in my home

Rooted in piles of consumer goods.

October Poem 24: The Roentgen Effect

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In the red light of the basement dark room,

I have seen Death dancing. A dim specter

In the dark. A shadow skeleton that

Might not be there. Arms outstretched motioning

Me forward. He has shown me photographs

Floating in the chemical vats. Floating

An accident of exposure. Floating

An artifact of suffering. Of black

Limbs solidified in among the white

Trees of an early snow and short sleeves. Drifts

Piled upon the autumn leaves. Weakened.

Unprepared. My son and I chasing that last

Bit of beautiful weather with a small

Burned out fire and Death dancing us on.
Fraud