Pete Spence
A Long Dry Spell.
West of morning
well if the rain
was pouring it
would be nice
to get wet watch
the powdered
earth start
thinking of grass
but it is
raining elsewhere
further away
than memory
that seems to
float like a cloud
through the dry
edges of the air
where there is
always something
to storm about!
Retina Scrape.
the wind steps up steps out
gets a little movement in town
the dry air is making sounds
like sandpaper on your eyes
our library is not orange! nor
is the moment i wrote that!
who are you said the soft rock
vague as this part of morning is
soft morning its leftovers growing
covering entirely the dawn
somewhere lunch is forming
the day is moving stepping out
sort of wins you over
as you step up to the plate
April.
strange happenings among the ordinary facing me
some something's to make my day like nestling
harmonicas for a little chorus and some toe tapping!
i was fooled it's April and a few days in and April
is toe tapping down the street it's got a mind of
its own whistling up some fine shadows on the run
from the sun lurking in a part of the sky about as
out in the open as it could get that's the sun on
such a day with so much blue to move through
birds fly through it and so does April the day
is toe tapping on the birds whistling up a tune
Pete Spence was born in 1946. He is a poet, visual poet, editor, and filmmaker, and has worked in various jobs to cover the ongoing deficit.
A collection of visual poetry, 5 X Y, was recently published by Red Fox Press as part of the C'est Mon Dada series.
previous page     contents     next page
A Long Dry Spell.
West of morning
well if the rain
was pouring it
would be nice
to get wet watch
the powdered
earth start
thinking of grass
but it is
raining elsewhere
further away
than memory
that seems to
float like a cloud
through the dry
edges of the air
where there is
always something
to storm about!
Retina Scrape.
the wind steps up steps out
gets a little movement in town
the dry air is making sounds
like sandpaper on your eyes
our library is not orange! nor
is the moment i wrote that!
who are you said the soft rock
vague as this part of morning is
soft morning its leftovers growing
covering entirely the dawn
somewhere lunch is forming
the day is moving stepping out
sort of wins you over
as you step up to the plate
April.
strange happenings among the ordinary facing me
some something's to make my day like nestling
harmonicas for a little chorus and some toe tapping!
i was fooled it's April and a few days in and April
is toe tapping down the street it's got a mind of
its own whistling up some fine shadows on the run
from the sun lurking in a part of the sky about as
out in the open as it could get that's the sun on
such a day with so much blue to move through
birds fly through it and so does April the day
is toe tapping on the birds whistling up a tune
Pete Spence was born in 1946. He is a poet, visual poet, editor, and filmmaker, and has worked in various jobs to cover the ongoing deficit.
A collection of visual poetry, 5 X Y, was recently published by Red Fox Press as part of the C'est Mon Dada series.