In a box uncovered in the move, I found writing I'd done in high school. I had no idea I still had this stuff. It was printed on a dot-matrix printer nearly 30 years ago. Most of it is awful. Some is still ok in the light of 30 years of life and experience. I'm not sure what is going on in this one; I think that is why I kind of like it. It's very much like it was written by a different person.
Reruns
Nothing is quite so lonely
As old reruns in the basement
I sit and stare
At the images that indicate the past
The colors are so old
And so alone
That they suck the light from the air around me
All I hear
Is the din from the tube
And the creaks from above
I climb up the stairs
The house is so dim!
The reruns are the curse
That enhances my pain
A sudden paranoia fills my soul
And I look all around for someplace to go
I run to my car
There is one place to go
There will be people there
People I know
Dirt flies and I hurry to escape
The curse of the reruns!
The night is so dark
Everything is something to fear
The drive takes forever
But finally I'm there
But alas!
There is no one
Strong imagery from the idea of reruns in the basement. I can also hear the sounds. There are snacks nearby. Unsatisfying snacks.
Any chance you might write daily poems soon?
Doritos, probably.
> ...poems...
Aren't really my jam anymore, if they ever were. I was surprised to find so many in this folder. I think they were creative writing class assignments.