Four Poems

JD DeHart

Working on the Stack

There is another
voice to be found, rifling
toward the bottom,
pressed finely like grapes
beneath a group of readings,
There is another author
shouting to be heard
beneath the fluttering pages
of other bully writers
who fight to share verbs.

Day Off

I could have been
brilliant today, taunts the empty
bag of chips.
I could have written
the masterwork, so says
the star of the film I watched
then re-watched.
Worse yet the plastic toys
of my youth line up in revolt
accusing me of wasting
my childhood on fantasy.

Cup Two

By cup one I’m remembering
who I am, living my life
on the java surface.
By cup two I’m getting pumped
for the places I’m going.
I know not where they are yet.
There’s a cup three, maybe four
and by then I’ll be positively
stirring like the dark bits
swirling toward the mug bottom.

Simple Words

Some may say
I use simple words
packed lines. I could definitely go to the edge of the screen
or drop a word like prestidigitation
a vague reference to Nabokov
or another word like pusillanimous
It’s not like we don’t have a life
full of spell check now, after all.


JD DeHart is a writer and teacher. His work appears in a variety of journals and blogs, including Mother Bird and Gargouille.

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