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kyledeckerauthor.bsky.social
Kyle Decker is a Chicago-based author, educator, and punk vocalist. He slips in poetry from time to time. Best known for his punk-noir novel: This Rancid Mill www.kyledeckerauthor.com he/him
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Taking to the streets. A bandana hides my face Like good guy outlaws.

Whisky, jazz, and cards. Bad shuffling makes games go quick. No fine motor skills.

It's that time of year. It's job interview season. Your boy needs a change.

It's April Fool's Day and parent conferences. Interesting choice.

last day of spring break it's back to work tomorrow just hope i can sleep

get into the car get up early to head west a spring break road trip

t-shirts on Tuesday then snowing on Wednesday night spring in Chicago

Construction season Highway is a parking lot A four-hour commute

different people telling me different shit about the same thing

sitting down to write. just not feeling it today. did it anyway.

Super windy night. Branches were falling from trees. Howling like a scream.

An all-day training. I was burned out halfway through. Empathy for kids.

Sharing pronouns now. It pisses off the right people. Which makes me happy.

Forgot yesterday. Was bound to happen sometime. And it will again.

Good day to be out. A bad day to break in Docs. Blisters on ankles.

Live music tonight. It's something worth living for. Intense catharsis.

another week done yet another seven days closer to forty

"Hey, you! Wake up now!" The birds sing from trees outside. Light comes earlier.

No, I did not watch. There's no bad publicity. Why give him ratings?

"Please don't throw cheese here." Words I never imagined coming from my mouth.

He talks of tariffs Down in the news overlay The stock ticker tanks

Need to blow off steam Drink small amounts of poison Three-day hangover

He's ugly outside The fat fuck screams at allies He's ugly inside

Here I go again Googling dissociation It's been a long week

I had rough edge charm Now I fear I'm just bitter And it breaks my heart

It is just some rain. You are wicked but no witch. You won't start melting.

Highs above fifty. It is still February. This is the fools' spring.

The snow has melted. Now there is mud everywhere. My shoes are dirty.

Four days on. Three off. One day for chores. One for fun. And one more for rest.

Art always matters Truly now more than ever Because I'm pissed off

They fight against "woke" because they have no true plans for things that matter

One poem each day Consistency is the key This is fucking hard

A press conference The diarrhea deluge Commander in chief

Meetings all damn day Usual tasks piling up Can I go work now?

Chicago winters Polar vortex from the north Never ending cold

This is my job now. Teaching warrants in Spanish. Darkest timeline.

He said, "We'll be rich." And all his followers cheered. They thought he meant them.

I want to try this All posts senryū or haiku Just for attention