My Modern Howl, the new poetry chapbook from Morgantown WV’s Jeremy Blizard

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AN EXCERPT

A Masterclass in Exacting Followers

I’m a probiotic

Anti-inflammatory

Suggestion box

A sticky chessboard

Equal rights

Broken phone charger

A facsimile

Of your depression

An empty mirror

A hazard traffic cone

Imploding sea mine

With writer’s block

I’m a question for no one

An answer for a mixer

A trade bound paperback

I’m lackluster in design

Chortling incoherence

Discarded debut revenue

An unplugged neon sign

Widespread misinformation

Masquerading as scotch tape

A fevered desire

For old tires and trash

And half-lit tv screens

A constant annoyance

Aluminum traded

For copper coated zinc

I am your celebrity culture

The New America

An end to green cheese

I’m the solipsistic

Blade of grass

Cut back by greasy fingers

I am the fried chicken

Empty toilet paper roll

Expecting retribution

I’m oddly curious

To fail to see the future

Now, eat your vegetables

Forlorn Faces

So oft ‘tis writ ‘bout forlorn faces

Broken halves alone and shapeless

Severed from the faint impossibilities

The mirrored smiles reflect disgraces

Gone near away to withered places

The mind ‘tis only but half the matter

The leaky eyes leave shapeless splatters

So stained the world stands out faceless

Are dreams left in uniform or tatters?

And thou surely know it is the latter

The lies come in fast and faster paces

And leave but empty formless traces

To inspire one to follow beaten possibilities

Behind thy heels are left but empty spaces

Again ‘tis scribed ‘bout forlorn faces

Warm; Seize; Live

To here the bleak sky shivers

For its leaves do shrivel cold

And on this day find frozen rivers

But thou see its ice is old

As old as empty treasures

That have fallen amidst the mold

For lie no ending measures

And as this it can be told

For fruitless now the winters

For all men’s hearts three-fold

For these lives we live as splinters

And these glitters found no gold

To give reason to this answer

A one cannot be told

With death and life as silent cancer

A smile is hard to hold

And though your hearts lie cold and still

And a smile may break the mold

Forever remember the words, “I will…”

And as an end to all, “…grow old”

Jeremy Blizard is from Morgantown, WV. He enjoys writing, making music, reading and improv.

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