On Rage, a poem




“            …that dog

barking at nothing

because every time he’s barked at nothing,

nothing’s gone wrong and why not keep it that way?”

– Bob Hicok, “One of those things we say…”


Blaze searing eye-corner

fierce rupture

a hazard of blades


we two, entangled –

emotion dug deep and flung far –



like the causes of weather

complexity systems

large beyond measure


on any scale

insinuated within

spaces we intimately share


archaic wounds – a butterfly’s wing –

tempest stress to tumultuous effect

(deep dug, far flung)


we two, engangled

emotive amygdalas in action

safe love, a hazard of blades


Friday Fictioneers – June 8, 2012

caveat: thrown together quickly! (Friday Fictioneers prompt – www.madisonwoods.wordpress.com)

Against the Day

                   And what was there to do?

                   High school now behind us, Frank’s dad dead, and no promise of college, work, or love; we were lost, angry, confused.

                   We’d all of us read Pynchon, we knew very well what to expect, and it wasn’t good.

                    And lots of it.

                  So much burned inside us.

                   At the city’s River Festival we spotted the blimp.

                   And somehow we knew.

                   We just knew.

                   Now, it begins.

N Filbert 2012