Off the Coast of Maine
The fog around the island is a dull ache—
I have grown
grey, like these houses here
on Monhegan: each darker
than the last,
The rumor is that a hurricane
is nearby and plans
to visit. No one seems too worried.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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Don’t read this:
This part is only here to reach the minimum word count, but why is there a minimum for poetry? I’ve got poems with no words, I've got poems with two. Even as I write this I have a poem dangling from my front teeth just waiting to drop! Spoil me with your brevity, I am the Rat King, after all.
About the Creator
Johnathan Riley
Writing is hard
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More stories from Johnathan Riley and writers in Poets and other communities.
On Hating Rupi Kaur
First published in Barnstorm This is how we start our Intro to Poetry course: I cancel class and schedule individual conferences with the students. We talk about life, and passions, and how they would describe themselves if they couldn’t mention their family or where they’re from. Eventually, there’s a little lull in conversation that pushes us towards a new question, “What poetry have you read?”. Many students look away and mumble something about Dr. Suess or Shel Silverstein, some laugh, but most of these twenty-somethins’ say that they’ve at least read Rupi Kaur.
By Johnathan Riley3 years ago in Poets
Getting Serious About Comedy (Part I)
If I were asked to remark on my life and the childhood that paved some road leading me to this point, I would have to say something about all the funny people who surrounded me for the last 26,872 days (and counting). Somewhere along that road, I became a big fan of laughter and the comedy that spawns it – and, I mean not only my own laughter, but the laughter of others, some of which I have actually been responsible for inducing.
By John Oliver Smith4 days ago in Humor
Comments (1)
I love your don't read section, really brings it all together. Beautiful poem.