I hope to make a separate area for these, as I know at least 50% of the people who read this are not really interested in my poetry, but for now those people will just have to click away.

I wrote this poem backward, line-by-line, as a sort of experiment in creativity. End with a punch and write the story from there. It’s not terrific, but it’s one more step toward the ultimate goal of being able to sit down and write poems. I used to do that frequently.

—

We all walked in to find Mel in good cheer
The sure thing he had was really a fake
So, we ate his chips and drank his beer
But we all knew Mel made his last mistake

John banged up to Mel’s house with a look that meant war
His face was still wet from unloading freight
Mel’s wife was standing in front of the door
She hung on John’s clothing, like a seven-ton weight.

But the decision was made, long-since, regret-free.
When he came out, his face blanched, he looked rather faint
He walked out the door and looked back at me
“They can’t all be winners and most of them ain’t.”