Trumpets and shouts go before parades.
Trumpets and shouts announce celebrations.
Trumpets and shouts raise alarms.
Trumpets and shouts usher in rebellions.
Something exciting.
Something new.
Something to be wary of.
Something to pay attention to.
And all powered by human breath.
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Spaces
The spaces in these poems
Are there because you need
To take a breath and slow
Down. Even laundresses
Of Xi’an, China, out behind
The university dorm,
Who scrubbed by hand,
Beat and hung to dry
Foreigners’ underwear,
Knew to take a rest
And gossip with each other
About what they’d just
Cleaned. The real pace
Of human life is like that,
Requiring you to pause
Every now and then
And think about the spaces
Within the heavy lifting
That insights and worries
Cause. It’s hard enough
To work for a living;
You also need to stop,
Rest, and share a little
Joke with your friends
About what each day has
Cleaned from your mind.
[Disposable Poem September 17, 2009]
Dr. Mike
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