John Clarke Altman
Temperamental Attention Disorder
Today a woman passed me on the way to work. She had been watching me. Waiting for her opportune striking moment. She saw my blinker. She knew that I needed that lane, Which she held, Yet her car remained Closer than it appeared. I saw the vile grin sweep across her face. Her hands danced…
Read MoreLona Misa
Raindrops rising And hairless chick-birds falling; Comparisons more beautiful And honoring To the light Which falls equationally straight On the veins of your hands As mine tingle. Desiring you. Our bodies, symmetrical And separately desired. My hands to yours, My eyes catching the waves escaping your eyes Legs to legs and embrace needing embrace. We…
Read MoreA Gardener’s Love Affair
The Winter conjunction of two lovers’ hands, The quiet movement of priority, And a folding of importance, Dreaming of losing but finding instead, unity. In an unknowingly familiar structure, She holds it. What it is I cannot imagine. A formless and struggling thing. The something I thought would come When I called for it with…
Read MoreWhat if I’m not wrong
What if I’m not wrong about this grass, and it is the softest toes can feel? Wouldn’t that be something? What if I’m not wrong and your eyes are the deepest and most compelling. Then I could fall unrelenting into truthful adoration. What if we aren’t mistaken And the song that lifts our…
Read MoreJohn Clarke Altman: What if I’m not wrong
What if I’m not wrong about this grass, and it is the softest toes can feel? Wouldn’t that be something? What if I’m not wrong and your eyes are the deepest and most compelling? Then I could fall unrelenting into truthful adoration. What if we aren’t mistaken And the song that lifts our…
Read MoreBirthday
The music sounds a little different today, And I smile. The smears on the windshield remind me of little graves. One for each year that I have been alive. I stare at my toes and wonder if it’s time for another one. But I’ll save it for a rainy day. I guess I’m older,…
Read MoreA Nonsensical Spring Poem
A vision so deeply and truly green, As a painter who forgot the rest of his palette. The richness of color that one can point to As the definition of that shade. The example of green Resides in the Mississippi Spring. Even the roadside weeds look beautiful. I hesitate to pull weeds sometimes. When…
Read MoreI Wonder Why the Road Means So Much
I wonder why the road means so much. Today it changed me without my knowing, As it has with so many others. On my drive to work, I passed a man, Just a normal man, but he was walking in the road, So he was not normal. He was shooing a fly, but he was…
Read MoreIntroduction: John Clarke Altman
My name is John Clarke Altman. I am 22 years old, and currently living in Clinton with my wife of 6 months (Alli) and my newly acquired dog (Pip.) I am working in the Missions department at First Baptist Church Jackson, and most importantly to this conversation, I deeply enjoy writing and reading literature of…
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