Three Poems, by Jack Cannon.

The buildings I've built

Incomprehensible studies
of afternoons and evenings
Twelve seconds from a childhood
vacation in the bottom
of an empty coffee cup
Tomorrow, I'll rebuild
my typewriter with
the welfare cheque
Sit on stone walls
dragged from vast melancholies
of orderly waiting rooms
Travel on empty buses
re-capturing myself
I'll throw my body
from the buildings I've built
and chat with Fathers whilst
their children are
being born

Drawing the blinds

I don't draw the blinds anymore
It's no big deal in itself
It's simply a small part of my drive
to eradicate futile actions
It's a rough calculation
but I figure I've spent over
six months of my life
cleaning out the fridge
Nearly two years
chopping carrots
I don't intend to throw away
another moment tuning the television
(practically two entire weeks)
The amount of time people spend
tiling the bathroom is appalling
I caught Mr Dawson
the man accross the street
pruning his petunias only this morning
Perhaps I should drop by
and set him straight
with a few ballpark calculations?


Driver Error?

Cars crashing in slow motion
Debris at the intersection
Tyre tracks retraced
Impact data studied long after working hours
Attention to detail
Shard of headlamp repositioned
Shred of expelled rubber returned
Telephone left off its hook

Wife & children invisible in rush hour traffic

Jack Cannon says: I've been writing for some years, and like to get below the surface, if I can, and take a look at things from a less common perspective.

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