Author: Jeff Popovich

2020 September 18

That is Jeff what I
do. Digitilized tablets
six of one, combust

able tablets half
of the other. I don’t trust
my translation tab

let to type when I
can’t read my handwriting, by
January I’ll

buy ink abandoned
next June when I don’t feel like
translating scribble

want type no edits
Wait, what, Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s
just died, diatribe

no, I’m laughing, glad
I’m not explaining why, glad
tomorrow morning

I’m not transcribing
wait what ruth bader ginsberg’s
died from ink to type

2020 September 17

It’s gone this version
Dead live, human talent
limited infinite combination

See what I’m doing
two-thirds a finished haiku
but live the third line of the stanza as sloppily as my life

I always think more
what who reads me thinks than think
about what I wrote

Reprogammed three times
every voice I hear I don’t
see a mouth move I’m

one two three four five
reliable narrator
look at me counting

2020 September 8

Bet honest unhinged
beats unhinged surveyed programmed
disingenuous

Disinformation
here’s me disinforming me
seven syllables

unhinged from rhythm
but I can count good. Kayfabe
(you knew I’d say that)

say the truth out loud
though it goes against our faith
(I’m talking to me)

code-tapping on pipes
insider wink, sacrifice
negotiated

unhinged from promise
but – this is key – in on it.
I’m talking to me

2020 August 28

I don’t feel haiku
tonight don’t feel ink type don’t
want reconsider

clusterfuck more side
ways than fucking yesterday
I expected more

from kayfabe breaking
People hoard polish tablet
tattoo promise, broken promise

over-promise ur
worship kayfabe abandon
kayfabe institute

new kayfabes my first
broken kayfabe a crucial
role in my certain

tea, my never wrong
insufferability.
I am 61

today. I know 8
syllables last line 4 stan
zas up, my gift to me

2020 August 18

Tomorrow marks 30 full years working at Engorge Goner University
Half my life, successfully still nobody but somebody enough
to those I like, thank you who somebodied me. If Earthgirl didn’t
see the ad in classifieds of Washington Post
insist I call, insist I call, Havid Dickey for an interview
this post and timeline doesn’t exist.
Kid(s) other, happy, hopefully, no Planet

2020 July 11

Jesus fuck jeff scrivener
fixed your woes before?
Glad that typed out rem
Ember my scrivener com
Plaint the auto-capitalism pro-
Blem even when I hyph-
Enate. Acrostic I day
Dream forbidden gim
Micks by tyrant (don’t
I’m not) I do count knu
Ckles though religiou
Sly I cheat, editing
In days evaporating
Faster than alcohol
Wipes, I can’t decode
What I inked into type
Ruin both, so scrive
Ner, my new tablet!
For the sixth time.

2020 July 3

  • Snyder certainly warned this kaboom inevitable, offered a less disgraceful off-ramp
  • He made them do it
  • I’ve lived here my remembered life
  • I was a fan, avid
  • Landru and I watched games together most Sunday afternoons for years, the 70s, maybe a third of the 80s
  • There was no apostasy (there was a trial separation), I started hiking Sundays with Earthgirl
  • Helmetball hate in general, hating Snyder in particular, credit Snyder*  
  • the half-assed psychopath desperate to join Team Sociopath
  • (*also too late-capitalism)
  • Please keep burgundy and gold

2020 June 12, 14

Four times out of five

my damn needs bleeding I’m dark

Light, I think, one fifth

Light I’m not dark yes

Light I still light in forest

chords still chime, rhymes rhyme

Not dark most. Today

Nozzle One nozzled Nozzle

Two for prime fuck you

Nozzle Two wilco

(Sun Volt is better). Uncle,

to pun low light. Light

beats dark. I miss dark

My new vegetarian

hiking boots orange

(rhymes with door hinge) an

kles OK I wore orange shoes

can’t wait dark restock

me restock me. Some

mere I fear most, pathogens

neighbors, my cat’s shit

could have chemically

reprogrammed my daughter’s soul

turned her bookkeeper

2020 April 12

Lamy’s black ink in a Lamy
fountain pen on white paper
darker than Lamy black ink
on Lighthouse’s beige bleeds
much more on Moleskine rag
scritchs more on white paper

Once I would have grunted a sestina
here. My list of apocalyptic words
BAYnull to bahNAIL exhaustive
I am sixty and new to history
happening, mine, one in nine
mes dies when poxed, my daughter

twenty-seven experiencing history
dependent on dice roll, me? Normally
I write poems in pencil to erase
for palimpsests effect, editing
never a factor. That box from work
I’m burying tomorrow, this poem goes there too