{"id":3475,"date":"2004-01-23T03:09:00","date_gmt":"2004-01-23T03:09:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/evetushnet\/2004\/01\/3475\/"},"modified":"2004-01-23T03:09:00","modified_gmt":"2004-01-23T03:09:00","slug":"3475","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/evetushnet\/2004\/01\/3475.html","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC \"-\/\/W3C\/\/DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional\/\/EN\" \"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/TR\/REC-html40\/loose.dtd\">\n<html><head><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><\/head><body><p><strong>ALL THIS USELESS POETRY<\/strong>: (Or, someday all this will be picturesque stanzas.) A lot of poems from various years, 2001-present. No speakers are me or anyone else I know; all restrictions apply; void where prohibited; close cover before striking.<\/p>\n<p><strong>The World Tonight<\/strong><br>\n<br>He\u2019s been a shouting head for years before,<br>\n<br>But never so reluctant on display.<br>\n<br>Four men sip coffee; they debate the war:<br>\n<br>The hawks and doves each know what each will say,<br>\n<br>Save one, his certainties become dismay.<br>\n<br>\u201cWhat\u2019s <em>your <\/em>advice?\u201d He makes his pen an awl<br>\n<br>To gouge the table\u2013\u201cStop, repent, and pray.<br>\n<br>Confess.\u201d Quick then, the moderator\u2019s drawl\u2013<br>\n<br>\u201cGood night, that\u2019s all the time we have, that\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><strong>Army of One<\/strong><br>\n<br>His hand rests on the throttle\u2019s leather skin,<br>\n<br>His fingers trace the puckers at the seams.<br>\n<br>His thoughts are smoldering the past within:<br>\n<br>The towers fall again each time he dreams;<br>\n<br>Their smoke pours down a street awash with screams.<br>\n<br>The targets cross his view, he\u2019s aimed, he\u2019s fired.<br>\n<br>The black smoke sinks. He thinks of his old schemes,<br>\n<br>Old hopes, and thinks, of all he once desired,<br>\n<br>How little he will miss the night his life\u2019s required.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Insomnia<\/strong><br>\n<br>Coffee after midnight<br>\n<br>awake awash in lust<br>\n<br>a solarized slant mind<br>\n<br>desire coiled in must<br>\n<br>Coronas after midnight<br>\n<br>one two three six ten!<br>\n<br>suck tomorrow\u2019s loose tooth<br>\n<br>&amp; sis boom bah again<br>\n<br>Working after midnight<br>\n<br>sleepless timeless caught<br>\n<br>against the living rhythm<br>\n<br>so laugh\u2013\u201cyou broke, you bought.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And <strong>a riddle<\/strong>:<br>\n<br>What all men desire:<br>\n<br>to be arrested before the act.<br>\n<br>But the sun will burn this future into past.<\/p>\n<p>(a frozen waterfall)<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>ALL THIS USELESS POETRY: (Or, someday all this will be picturesque stanzas.) A lot of poems from various years, 2001-present. No speakers are me or anyone else I know; all restrictions apply; void where prohibited; close cover before striking. The World Tonight He\u2019s been a shouting head for years before, But never so reluctant on [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1071,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3475","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v21.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Eve Tushnet<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"ALL THIS USELESS POETRY: (Or, someday all this will be picturesque stanzas.) A lot of poems from various years, 2001-present. 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