Jason C. Brown

Jason C. Brown Poems

Leaves are prettiest in autumn when they are
dying, competing for remembrance,
their brilliant blood-crimson and ochre bursts
like gasps, echoing,
...

are less important now.
I grow sick of their increase, the getting
closer to dying.
I'm not afraid of your approach, but
...

3.

I exited the subway
and spied a homeless man sleeping
on the platform: white, bearded, middle-
class and middle-aged looking,
...

Jason C. Brown Biography

B.A. English Literature, Skidmore College M.F.A. Acting Moscow Art Theatre/Harvard University)

The Best Poem Of Jason C. Brown

Race To The Finish Line

Leaves are prettiest in autumn when they are
dying, competing for remembrance,
their brilliant blood-crimson and ochre bursts
like gasps, echoing,
'See me, see me-
I was here'-

'Who will remember me when I'm gone?
Will I be forgotten? ', fears humanity.
These are grave concerns.

Hunger for immortality seems futile-
most of the time I feel I hardly
matter; not in a sad way. There
is peace in anonymity
among the bevy of billions birthed before,
the many millions who will die after-
a satisfying solace that I'll have played my part.

Marilyn Monroe isn't privy to her legendary
imprint on the popular conscience.
i will be unaware of my lack thereof.
We're even.

Jason C. Brown

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