by Michael Bazzett
- The sound a bluejay makes, if it were a color, would not be blue. It would be the color of something torn open.
- The ubiquity of dust.
- Two men enter a room. One asserts time is an invention, the other claims it as a discovery. They stare into one another’s eyes. The exact length of this pause has yet to be determined.
- Roughly half of all food is discarded, leading observers to conclude that we could, if necessary, live on the moon.
- It is a truth universally acknowledged that absolutes are not to be trusted. Fortunately, plans are underway to etch this into the cornerstones of public buildings.
- Throughout history, each individual has found the fact of his or her impending demise to be implausible. Most believed they were special. This secret was held closely to their chests. It apparently makes a dry, rattling sound when knocked loose.
- Punctuation matters: the penis, mightier than the sword?
- In modern parlance, we have one word for snow. Native peoples, however, had dozens of words for money, including bones, clams, bread, trees, meat, shells, and coca leaves, which, ironically, produce the aforementioned snow.
- It is not possible to consider the next observation.
- Directions can be difficult to follow. The authorities are aware of this and have convened a committee to propose solutions. Internal politics are slowing the process, however. As in all things, it is a question of cultivating the proper discipline.
Michael Bazzett’s poems have appeared in journals such as West Branch, Green Mountains Review, Best New Poets, Diagram, and The National Poetry Review. He was the winner of the 2008 Bechtel Prize from Teachers & Writers Collaborative and was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize. New poems are forthcoming in Beloit Poetry Journal, Bateau, The Los Angeles Review and Sentence. He lives in Minneapolis with his wife and two children.