This poem is about early 20th Century Oil Drilling practices. Enjoy it, I really liked writing it.

A Rotary Tool Used for Scraping Out Obstructions from an Oil Pipeline

The Go-Devil,

A Cylinder of hooks and plates,

Is put to work

The oil pipeline lies

Like a dull grey worm who has eaten

Too many vindictive spider webs,

Begging for the little devil's medicine

Grab, tug, grind the walls clean!

Go, devil!

Endure the steady scrape.

Without necessary abrading,

The black gold won't flow

A Confession

I love birds. 

I think I discovered it while listening to the song "Maybe Sparrow" by Neko Case. I was enjoying every note when I realized that I was drawing a picture of a little bird. I then walked outside and caught myself staring at a raven or crow or whatever black birds we have up here. 

I remembered writing a story for my short story class a couple of quarters ago, all about a young man and his battle of wills against a golden eagle that smashes into his bedroom. I have no idea why I love birds, I have no idea why I think them the coolest thing around, but I do and now you know. 

Enjoy the information. 

Okay, kids (and I don't mean goat babies)!

I'm going out on a limb here and putting up a poem that I wrote for my class. I showed to a couple people and the response was ho-hum, but you know what? They're Philistines. No, they have valid opinions, but I like this guy, so read it and enjoy. Or hate it. Art's suppose to make you feel something so I hope some kind of emotion goes through your body. 

An Almost Empty Countryside

In the beginning of late October

A thick cooling settles in the trees,

Wo shiver, still holding their leaves

Here is a Fox, a thin snout and waist

Walking about the tired grass

The darkened road kept cold with vacancy

No destination begged an urgency

The small paws step searchingly

'Round roots, from tree to field

The Fox cries a sharp, loud: "Wow-wow-wow!"

A loose arrow with no target, 

     it sinks its tip into the cooling dirt

having found no one to listen

the darkened road kept cold with vacancy

No destination begged an urgency

The Fox begins to wander

For food, for friends,

For anything—

And Here:

The darkened road kept cold with vacancy

No destination begged an urgency

The Fox's weak-feathered hope

Brings him on the tarred-tongue road

Well a well placed cliche

Motors its steel grille into paper mache bones

And Now:

The Fox's blood-paint crawls

Like water looking for a stream, thinking—

"It was all so one-sided!"

Well I'm here again, I know you've all been clawing at your computer screens waiting for another post. I give it gladly.

So I have a question. Do you ever invent people?

Yes, I know "people" have already been invented, that's not how I mean that. And no, I'm not talking about characters for your stories or what have you. No, no, no—

What I mean is, have you ever met someone, not known much about them, and then just create this person that you kind of assume that they are, and base all of your interactions or thoughts about them around this fictional character you've created?

I know I have!

It's very dangerous, if you haven't figured that out already. You might create a person that you think is rather detestable, unwelcoming. You might avoid them and say things about or to them that they very much don't deserve. Man, you're a jerk. 

Or the complete opposite might happen! You meet someone and your first impression of them is that they're the bee's knees. Then you don't get to talk to them, or you don't see them for a while, and this first impression keeps layering itself on this person that you hope they are, and before you know it, you've created this Greek god of a person that can do no wrong! How disappointed you will be. Oh, so tragic. 

I don't really have a way to end this, so enjoy the original LOLCAT over there.