The smell of new curtains


It came from the right side like God, or a deer, a

Migraine warning;
Chemotherapy strikes at any time.

Where am I going wrong?

Under community skies and red roofed buildings, immaculate
And unfinished,

Holding on for next week’s rent,
Even if you were alive,

I’d not have listened,

Missing a father to say what’s wrong
In his opinion,

Old enough how,
To hear sterner words in music,

To understand that the clinic serves Japanese-Americans and Kenyans alike,
On the dusty Main Street of the farming village,

The dusty, ochre-coloured Main Street covered,
With maize drying, and

Women slipping from bus-stop to bus-stop with children in their hair, that was

Paid for,
By a man with a plan – the clinic,

And mum’s words,
Soft and gentle and supportive,

And different from yours;

I can take it now daddy,
Where did I go wrong?

I can make things right now,
The deer came from the left.

And whilst hindsight works in accidents we do not see coming,
At least Cancer gives us time.


♦Photo♦ –

-short evocative poetry-

These Similarities 

Like a Simile Chain Gang

These similarities, between fetus and familiar, between hatch and peck, as if polypeptidic, like coils of invisible thread, are likely the truest road map between me and you. Follow your bonds, and I’ll follow mine. We’re going forward together, prisoners of momentum, as spun as wool.


K. Shawn Edgar 

Heart Feelings Linger

For all you’ve given us,
You’re not much of a romantic.
Love, you tell us,
Is only in our heads.
Just a chemical reaction.
Elevated levels of dopamine,
Seratonin, and ocytocin.
Flooding our brains and bodies,
With intoxicating pleasure.
High from the uppers and opioids,
Created by our own brains,
We wouldn’t mind staying,
In this crazy-in-love,
Can’t-get-enough-of-you phase,
Forever and ever.
But, Science tells us,
Such feelings are fleeting.
Your feel-good chemicals,
Will level off,
Because love, you tell us,
Is only a chemical reaction.
Elevated levels of dopamine,
Doping our brains.
Seratonin, soothing our souls,
And intoxicating oxytocin.
Nothing more.
But love is more complicated,
Than chemistry.
What if the chemical levels,
Drop in our brains,
Because they’ve migrated to our hearts?
Settled in the neurons there.
Which is why when we’re apart,
From the one we love,
We feel a physical ache in our hearts.
It’s because heart feelings linger.
And if you don’t feel that pang,
Then those feel-good chemicals,
Never made their way to your heart.
They were, sadly, only in your head

Library Tower


University Place Library Tower

There’s a foul tang. I felt it on my lips. Tasted it fully. Drove it along my tongue, towards gulf of throat, and then spat. It was summer.




Magnetism Organism

We live on the surface,
Of the shallow crust,
Of a gigantic magnet.
It has positive and negative poles,
Constantly interacting with one another.
Simultaneously repelling themselves,
And yearning to complete themselves.
Everything depends upon this polarization.
The rotation of the earth,
And its orbit around the sun.
The fusion reaction of the sun,
Generating the light,
Filling up the darkness,
Creating life itself.
Positive spaces,
Filling up the negative spaces,
With light and life.
They say we’re not made,
Of magnetic stuff.
But nature knew what she was doing,
When nature made our nature,
Just as as magnetic,
As the earth itself.

The Lesser of Two Meanings

Levee: the second can resemble the first.

Along the river Futurity,
its lips licked by tongues of fresh snow melt,
sediment builds a ridge like the assembly of men
around a monarch’s morning wakefulness.

Sentinels pile up behind the gnarred current
bleating grains of what’s to come.
Farther down the river
the ridges are already forming.

Janus, the guardian we get when two rivals are one in the same, back-to-back, and we linger under the falsehood of choice.

K. Shawn Edgar | 8787453 | 97823#4 | Jar109Tar3

Monsters and Machines

It’s a curious thing.
What makes a man begin to hate everyone,
And everything?
Is it an insurmountable sadness,
That drives him to madness,
That makes him not a man,
But a monster filled with rage?
Or rather a machine,
With no empathy or anything,
That makes one a human being.
Was he really a monster?
Was he really a machine?
Did he really hate those people?
How could he go through it?
Was it God that made him do it?
We can really only speculate.
What filled him with so much hate.
So much hatred.
So much death.
So many people willing,
To be the monsters and machines,
To do the hurting and the killing.