Thursday’s poem

A Thursday morning post.

On Saturday, I was in an auto accident.  Hit from behind.  It’s strange when you don’t see it coming.  Can’t prepare.  Can’t brace yourself.  After the impact, it was like an out of body experience, seeing me flail forward and then jerk back as the loud shattering bang rang in my ears.  Now the job is self-care.  Rest and healing.  Seeking the doctors and insurance adjusters, mechanics and parade of automobiles.  How long will it take to put the pieces back together?

The attempt to get back to the practice of writing.  Finding words, finding my voice.  I will put on the headset and continue to transpose.  My time shortened as I am gentle with myself.

Took my first poetry workshop in many years.  It was scary and fun and a chance to connect.

I leave you with one of the poems I created.  See you next week.


fading mambo


I am weary of this world

but you will be my girl

who will say that I’m not quite obsolete


even in the end

you will be my facebook friend

schooling foodies on the hippest place to eat


wearing purple blue and green

you dance the serpentine

and flail erotic while I’m on my knees


with a long-surrendered shout

my tattered soul comes out

I iron it so it becomes pristine


you will bite it with your teeth

I will bleed to get relief

we are vagabonds who travel without dreams


I help you with your words

you say “aging’s for the birds”

I kiss you before you start to lie


fearless to undress

with your head upon my chest

morning makes you glisten in my eye



Zack Hoffman  2017

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