Fred Aiken Writing

Category: Poetry

October 20, 2023

mapped out fantasy

petrichor falls apart,
ripping the fabric off,
sheets fall to the ground,
covering feet not meant to 
walk across this sacred ground
that doesn’t seem to be mapped out
yet,
though i’m sure that might change
quite soon

October 19, 2023

to tug; but not that way

there’s a line i keep following,
though it’s not a line that i’m aware of,
nor is it particularly deterministic,
nor random,
but a loose thread being tugged at,
violently, and without remorse,
until the line and everything following it,
aka me,
is disastrously splayed out in the middle of the kitchen
in a crime scene that no one is responsible for,
because no one else
saw what happened,
and that’s the story they’re sticking to

October 17, 2023

pretending to write non-existence

i keep writing lines
to one poem after another,
and they sound
okay
in my head, at first,

but then when i read them out loud,
and i’m presented with their existence,
which could be for two minutes,
or two million years (though unlikely),

i rapidly delete them
and then pretend i never knew they existed,
and in a way they don’t