Open Windows // The Pen Name Anthem

Maybe Andrea Gibson wrote my favorite poem of all time
or maybe it was just the song playing in the background

We write behind pen names like hide and go seek games
you're it, you're it
Just trying to get English credit and you're it

Can you feel the gravity
as young people are letting down their guards
and we all just keep falling

I've never had to tell everyone who I really was,
so I don't know what you're going through
I don't know

Paris was always only a symbol and Harold was always only a failure
I am an open book,

I don't know if I chose Harold or if Harold chose me
I am an open book,

I am a book written in another language

I don't know which poems I've already read in front of the class
and which ones I've only read to my wife
I've been trying to recognize my own voice for decades

This is me trying to open the windows in my classroom

This is me making a list of things to read while he sits in his prison cell
Because we're all doing time
and all we have is time
and all we can give is time
and all we need is time

Sometimes when students write poems dedicated to Paris, I think they're talking to me
and they say things like "I've always loved you"
it makes me feel weird

Maybe I was never Paris
Maybe all of us were
Maybe we still are
Maybe we can still be

Harold Miner means as much to me as Kyle Nelson ever did
and I don't know which one is the real me

I once asked a girl named Kenzie how her older sister Kat was doing
and she looked at me like I was crazy.
Cause see, Kat Stratford was just a pen name of one of my favorite writers
and sometimes I get the virtual world confused with the real world
and I wonder if I even remember that girl's real name
I'm sorry

But you will always be your pen name to me
I'm sorry

We keep changing the greetings on our phones because our voices don't sound right
they never will
even deaf people sometimes cover their ears

even seniors in high school still get excited for school
you keep looking for credit, I promise I'll give you all that you ever needed
no you can not use the hall pass
I'm about to change everything you thought you knew about yourself
sit down

and tomorrow when I call you by your pen name
you probably won't even look

how to fool everyone

step one: become a teacher

step two: sell writing to unsuspecting teenagers

step three: tell them how much they need it, how much you love it, how much they'll love it, how easy it is, how important it is, assign them posts every week, and journal prompts every other day, including five they must do on their own, inspire them, inspire them, inspire them

step four: don't write yourself because you're too busy

step five: remind them how important it is for them to write, even if they're busy

step six: call the busiest ones tourists

step seven: watch netflix instead of write

step eight: read instead of write

step nine: fantasy football instead of write

step ten: join a november novel writing website and pretend you'll stick with it

step eleven: repeat every semester and see how long your heart lasts

Trees and Boys and Other Mysteries

She teaches him how to feed the ducks. She breaks bread, she smiles, she speaks in hushed tones. He stands back, scared at first. What if they come after me? What if I'm not fast enough? The ducks honk and laugh and honk and laugh. They shield their eyes from the sun and the little boy says  

look.

She picks him up and carries him to the shoreline. His words are incomprehensible. His emotion all over his sleeves.

A teenage boy jumps from a structure just North of them. He does a back flip and then rolls up on to his feet, running his hands through his long hair. The little boy just laughs. A fish jumps two feet in the air and belly flops back in the water. The teenage boy leans against a rock with his journal and his thoughts. An old man walks along the trail with the help of walking sticks. The ducks glide along the water.

The leaves are changing, but it's happening too slow for anyone to see.

They'll be dead in six weeks.

And we'll act like we never even saw it coming.

Predictive Poetry

I want to try something different. So I'm writing this on my phone and letting my iPhone help decide what words are next. 

The fact that I can be found 

I'm not sure what I want 

The only thing that could make it so much better 

I love you too and I love you too 

I just got home and I have no idea what to say 

I'm at the end 

I'm not a fan of yours and I don't know if you have to go back to sleep now and then you will never understand why people think they are so cute 

The new version 

The new update 

The new one is the best thing to say 

I'm not 

I'm not 

I'm not sure how 

The only way to get my money back or not I don't know

things we lost in the fire

-There was a secret passageway from the bathroom to the basement and we used it for more than dirty clothes.

-I didn't go there as often as I should have. 

-We used to watch scary movies and I hated scary movies. But we ate popcorn and we replaced our parents with lots of blankets. 

-They used to be young. We all used to be so young.

-My Vietnamese friend came by one time and he didn't feel welcome. 

-It's where I learned how to roll up a sleeping bag.

-They made my parents and my parents made me and God made all of us. 

-I only saw them on holidays. I wonder what they were like on normal days.

-Drinking and swearing and laughing and do we have to go home already?

-The pictures make us think that they lived black and white lives, but nothing is ever that simple.

-She cooked the best rolls and I've never felt safer.

-He painted the best Easters and he painted the best Christmases.

-Now the only time we see each other is funerals and weddings, but I don't seem to remember the weddings anymore.

-It was another world, but it was barely an hour away.

-These memories are pictures of pictures. 

-I wonder how much my own kids will forget. 

Old Faithful

I want to be reliable like that
Church every Sunday
Remember every birthday
Kiss my daughter's knee every time she falls down

But I want to be unpredictable
You never know what to expect
I keep you on your toes
Fun to be around
More alive than a robot,
a clock,
a machine
Something you can't program

I want no one to count on me

sometimes

I don't know what my dad's favorite color is and I'm starting to wonder if that even matters.

We're all sitting around the football game and a guy asks my wife, "How did you guys meet?"

My dad says, "Well, I had sex with his mother and then he was born." I was the only one who laughed.

Sometimes the funniest moments go unappreciated.

My dad stopped drinking when it was too late, but he's still alive. It was his birthday yesterday and he sent me a text at 7:38 pm.

"Thank you so much. One of the best birthdays ever!!! My favorite food, a movie and my family, it doesn't get better than that."

Sometimes there's no poetry in the truth. 

My wife asked him if he had any advice in his 61 years and he said something about following your dreams. He wanted to be a swimmer. He wanted to be a vet. He didn't become either of those things.

Sometimes the best examples are hypothetical.

So today we'll go to my sister's house for dinner. We'll order pizza from The Pie and eat cupcakes and watch football and we'll be happy. We won't think about everything that could've been. We won't listen to the voices from the past or worry about the future.