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  • PS: Your Poem A Week w/ Philippe Shils

PS: Your Poem a Week w/ Philippe Shils

​A poem and a picture weekly for a year.  #weeklypoemandpic

PS: SOCIAL MEDIA/BOOKS/BAND

13. Weather pattern

1/31/2020

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Picture
13.
Weather pattern

My wife made us
go out in the looming
ice storm’s January rain.
The restaurant was
empty and warm
and the food was good.
There were
three people
at the bar and
us four at a table.
We were treated like
family arrived
bravely home.
Now everyone
is in bed but me
and the cat
has got out.
I hear tires
spinning
without traction
in the alley.
I was right
to spread the salt
on the front walk.
I was right
to have her
drive not me.
I was right.
The cat is out.
The wind has
picked up.
I was right.

#weeklypoemandpic
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12. Laptop

1/24/2020

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Picture
12. Laptop

The age of consent
for pictures is zero.
You wearing makeup.
You wearing cowboy boots.
You pouting past your bedroom door.
Whatever you’re doing
is what you just did.
Your sister can't say ok.
You will not say ok.
It's not about me and
it should be about you.
I'll take under consideration
that I did not have this to consider
when I was your age.
I was a lightweight.
You are a computer.
You have been documented.
I’m sorry Felix
for being unthoughtful.
I was unthinking.
My thinking was nothing
next to your thinking.

#weeklypoemandpic
​
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11.

1/17/2020

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Picture
11.
Klimawandel

What a warm winter.
There were occasional red ants
and unhoarded acorns amongst
the bursts of green shoots.
My son laid his hand on a rust
colored wasp that squirmed
sluggishly then flew heavily away.
Skudding leaves were
mistaken for butterflies.
We marched more than expected
and wore through boots.
If it had been colder we might
have stayed in, watched the news,
and noticed disasters unfolding.
By the time it snowed
and we came indoors
it was too late. There had been
missiles and murders
but we’d been busy outside.

#weeklypoemandpic
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10.

1/10/2020

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Picture
10.
​
Decisions to be made
1.
I’d forgotten she’d
lost her foot.
How had I
forgotten
forgotten.
How
had she
lost
lost it.
She walked as
though she had
her leg in a
coffee can.
The two of us were
being kicked
out of our hotel.
Broken windows
windows
and a big
mess.
Underwear and
liquor on
the piano keys.
Clear the room
she said.
There are
decisions
to be made.

2.
Beneath the
base of
each mountain
there are
spools from which
unreel all of
the ropes
for climbing
and for tying
placed there
in prehistory
unwinding and winding
and kept untangled
by uncertain mechanisms
of handlike machines
But we know
from victories
and deaths
that there
are still
decisions to
be made
#weeklypoemandpic
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9. Will he never be still

1/5/2020

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Picture
9. Will he never be still

He required a lap full of rabbits. His mother was mad as she had nothing with which to pay the Attractors or at the very least some advice for getting the soft things to come through the hedges and the high grass to sit on her son’s legs and hold him still. He twitched like an alien. His choreas seemed evolved as defense against being eaten. Directionless as escape from a paper bag. He calmed when carried but his movements allowed no tenderness. He will incite riots she told the Doctors. These are the spasms that urge the world to violence. There is no medical precedent they replied. Hence the rabbits.

#weeklypoemandpic
​
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    PS: Your Poem a Week w/

    Philippe Shils - he lives in central Illinois. He has chapbooks available from Underground Books, Right Hand Pointing Press, and a collaborative one with his band The Red Wheelbarrows available at gigs and on Facebook by request. He plays old time banjo and has two kids who are patient with their father.
    Check out his New Band, Books and Social Media!! 

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