[This entry is cross posted at ordinary-times.com]

You’re still at work? What do you think you’re getting done between now and quitting time? Cut out and stop pretending. Take a POETS Day. Piss Off Early, Tomorrow’s Saturday.

First, a little verse.

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I read a lot of poetry that I like but don’t write about. There are a few that I like, want to write about, and set aside because I don’t have a fit for them yet; I imagine there are companion pieces and if I have patience and keep an eye out, I’ll find a tie-in for the set-aside, write about whatever thread links the works, and end up giddy for the convergence. That happened once, but mostly I have a bunch of tagged poems consigned to fester in the Rainbow app and torn-notepaper-bookmarked anthologies languishing on my shelves. Half the time I can’t remember which work called for the bookmark. Two sonnets on the even page, a villanelle on the odd; one of them caught my eye but the mood is gone, the association lost.

Today I’m sharing a few of the bookmarked poems I’ve been holding onto for a while. Fans of Jeopardy are familiar with the clue category “Potpourri,” filled with clues from a variety of categories that were left on the board, not called by players when time ran out. I thought of the stupid pun “Poet-pourri,” but before I made claim by saying it, I explained to my wife that I was writing about unrelated poems this week and asked if she could do a potpourri illustration. She jumped my stupid pun reveal with a blurted “You should call it “Poet-pourri.” Now I can’t prove authorship. At best, one of us plays Newton to the other’s Leibniz but I’m fine sharing the shame.