Whoops

Kinda forgot about everyone out there for a bit.  I had a busy March.  I was at the Improv with Bret Ernst, I had the Roast of John Winters, and that left me very little time to write much. 

So I’m just trying to get back into the swing of things.  Here’s a poem (I know, I know…boo)

The Well-Dressed Shop Teacher

Tight white curls of pine shaved onto
the cement floor fill cracks in strategic spots. 
Sawdusts surrounds a Kmart boot, brown laces 
straining against the rail of the lathe.

Rough hands, fumble at delicacy,
Trying to undo what has been done.

Knots in the wood, knots in the neck.

An agitated hand sweeps the sawdust off the bed.
Mr. Karwoski’s Pierre Cardin
a silk tangle of forrest green and grease,
sleeps on the quiet spindle.

The motor hums, expecting more action.

The well-dressed shop-teacher curses the headstock. 
He curses the lock knob.  He curses the tool rest.

It’s 4:15 and the buses are pulling away.

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