Brett Rogers Poems

I wish I was a little spider
Hanging in a corner between two plaster walls (a guide wire wrapped around the kitty-corner outlet)
Just waiting … no pressure,
For the world, for sustenance,
...

[In a 1440 minute day
There is one,
(A 4-0-0 or the 240th)
That
...

It’s a pain reliever.
It’s emotional makeup.
It’s a colon cleanser.
It’s a boredom cure (it will make any movie entertaining, and the entertaining ones transcendent) .
...

I found my way home
On a straight line
Of cigarette butts,
Stitched across America’s chest,
...

Now I lay me down to sleep,
Afloat in the glow of passing beats.
In-between the rolling tide,
Safe from those the darkness hides.
...

There is a spy in my box!
A private eye
With sometimes-curly locks.
It’s cold in here,
...

A creek ambles by,
The dry makes it quiet, the rain makes it loud …
Tonight: barely heard.
...

I stand with my dogs before or at the sunrise and overlook the Chattahoochee …
… And it is indescribable and everyday different …
… And I let the wind blow the tears from my eyes …
...

This overweight dump truck of words left unsaid
Will haunt my hair a whitish-gray,
As I toss and turn, and flip and curl, and turn and plank, and toss and sweat
Through endless nights,
...

… And deep into the night dark
I exit out my humble home,
Six steps left, to the dirt, for my last cigarette.
...