If you absolutely must say something, drop me a line at hldougan@hotmail.com |
These poems were published in the Metroland on October 3, 2002. They promise their published poets a $25 gift certificate to a local bookstore. I'm still waiting for mine.
|
the street
today was littered with multi-colored signs - cryptic little messages or questions asking if I've got any butter and reminding me to clean up after my dog or attend a bbq (BYOM) Saturday other times I've wondered
about and suddenly I find
myself distracted while I was driving,
I saw them too proceed with caution
|
In a different and
more pissed off place
|
if you've
never heard the words "never trust an artist" i can assure you it's
true highly trained in
the art it doesn't always a simple rearrangement
of the words and what you read
will easily become while i was hurling thinking to myself there's no reason
why today i think i'll
play |
Here are a couple others that I found in My Documents!
Can't remember if these were submitted to the Metroland or Salvage. Just occurred
to me that a prose section might be worthwhile as well, maybe not. We'll see.
At any rate, I'm trying to decide if these will be included in my upcoming anthology,
Drogen und Philosophie. I named the anthology years and years ago, but
the actual content is still very much a work in progress.
Scene
Short Story #1 Revised and Condensed
Occurs to me that I haven't written in quite a while,
or at least not that I remember. The untitleds are short and sweet (well, these
two are anyway. I have lots of untitled poems) and I wrote them a while ago.
Like a year ago maybe?
Untitled
1
Untitled 2
The next two (not poems) I wrote for a creative writing
class. At the moment I'm inclined to say that they're not all that creative,
but they are writing. Both are true, too, as amazing as that sounds.
Dream
- the assignment
was to describe a dream. Just so happens that I'd had a fairly freaky dream
about a week prior!
Short story - "write a piece of
prose based on an experience" or some such. When I was 19 I went to New
Jersey to meet (in person) a kid I'd met (online). David and I never really
spoke again after that. I remember that on the train home some businessmen who'd
just closed some fabulous deal bought beer and hotdogs for me. I think they
might have been investment bankers. I was just hoping that I wouldn't get off
the train with beer-breath! I later tried to make a poem out of this story so
that I could submit it to the Metroland.
Hrmph. I don't have any clever narrative to add. This one needs some serious tweaking, then maybe I'll set aside to send away to the Metroland when I have a few others to add to it.