Poem

How’s life I wanted to know.
I asked the pacing doors.
The hallway wasn’t the same
and the smells were changing-
found a grievance filled with
letters floating around my head-
I wonder if I’ll see him again,
even if just inside a dream or two.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

We were trying to get there so we were there, and nothing was found. No wind. No noise. Nothing to smell and nothing to see. The digging for- found absence. Even the worms were away, also looking; for us to be found with thoughts free enough to live again.

-M. Taggart

To Be. A Poem. #pros

I have this nearly non-stop feeling
to leave the house and do something.
Anything. Walk, hunt, fish, visit family,
drive to the ocean, cross state lines
and not follow rules. So, that’s what I do.
I used to say to be free in America
is to be without debt. But with Covid,
my feelings on freedom has transitioned.
Never did I think my government would
prohibit movement and daily freedoms
to the level they have. Thankfully, I didn’t
listen, and it felt great to not listen and
to find my new freedoms by not staying put.
This may very well become the most
important Spring of my lifetime.
Every May flower is waiting to be seen.
They only need to be planted first.

-M. Taggart

Poem

Through their blank eyes
they speak their dead words
as if they are them. They
caress their means of existence
as an exhibition of ritualistic rounds,
with their spittle dried around
the edges of their mouths
giving way for the darkness
to feed among each closing
and opening of their haunted
caverns; they truly believe they
are among the structure of it all.
And exactly as they are, we see.

-M. Taggart

Poem

Driving to the pub, I knew I wouldn’t
like sitting at the bar as much as if
my family was with me, but I drove
anyway and felt the unease of knowing
how I’d already feel while at the bar
with my book. I parked and looked
at the entrance to the pub. It wasn’t
much to look at but I looked anyway.
Inside, it was much as I expected it to be.
The bartender asked where my family was.
I told her that they ditched me. They didn’t
want to come to the pub, this time.
She smiled and said that our son was handsome
and that he was always polite.
I like that things don’t feel as good when I’m
at the pub without my family.
I ordered a Guinness and read from my book,
Growth of the Soil.

-M. Taggart

Growth of the Soil, written by Knut Hamsun.