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Everything I ever said best is said better By ocean spray on tide stained sand. I'm happy to keep loving you as best I can. I am happy here when I love you the best I can.
John Pinkham, “I’m waiting for someone I love to die so I can leave Boston, Massachusetts,” from his chapbook Well and Good
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I think a new rule for my twenties is Anytime I fall in love, I buy a rodent, and when it dies, we break up. If I got a gerbil 3 years ago, I don't think I'd believe in God now, At least not with any real conviction.
John Pinkham, “Sometimes I pretend you’re lost at Sea, so I feel less foolish for still loving you,” from his chapbook Well and Good
My neighbor Maria waters her potted plants at five in the morning she grows flowers so big their egos look up at the trees across the street and calmly say you aint shit they die cocky every fall Maria wears a pink mumu and a sun hat every day except Sundays when she passes me by in black and silver velvet a plump smile and a kind word Va com Deus Go with God as if to say Thou shalt too be like a watered garden my child I have found Jeremiah In these Dahlias And we talk about you Wont you join me at church? But every Sunday I sit on my stoop hungover and blow smoke through the words Va com Deus and in that moment I fucking hate Maria Maria who throws French Fries in our backyard dumps out our ashtrays into the alley tips over our garbage cans with the push of a cane who grows flowers so big only to watch them die just like a new god to tease something lovingly into life and watch it wilt
Tonight’s Cantab feature is 2018 team member John Pinkham! He’ll also be running an early-bird workshop on humor in poetry. This is from his poem “At Home Soil Tests and Self Loathing,” published in Maps for Teeth.
“You always hear about other people’s happiness the same way you always hear about an accident, or see its remnants on the side of the road.”
John Pinkham performs “Love Letter While Bipolar” in a preliminary bout at the 2017 National Poetry Slam for Slam Free or Die in a video via SlamFind.
“Now, my mom says God gives you no more than what you can handle. So what does it say that he left no fingerprints of his work on us, wiped them clean like we wouldn’t figure out what he did.”
Tonight’s Cantab feature is our very own bartender and 2017 SFOD team member John Pinkham! Here he performs “Magic” at the 2017 VOX POP tournament at Slam Free or Die in Manchester, NH in a video via SlamFind.
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[untitled]
by John Pinkham
These are not my tears
But those of humbled masses
Gathered for me to speak
Of a love thats only ashes.
I’ve only known him thusly
A hushed box with no remnants
Of this gaffer prior know
As flesh and real presence.
But God’s acre has burned
Thus and so, this crypt has stemmed
And such grief in perpetuity
Aids this eclipse to never end.
These could be my tears
And I too could hear a poem
By a man who offers nothing
But stone sturdy for when the wind blows
So go, go in peace
Lest you lay here by my feet
Reduced to only ash
And a dead love’s empty dream.
