Wrote this poem as an experiment. Slam poetry, as it exists today, is not something I truly enjoy. Though slam’s origin is fascinating and its early works and writers phenomenal, it seems to have devolved into a template; a boring and repetitious flow accompanied by some shocking “drop” or purposeful placement of intensity that leaves some breathless and others sighing. That being said, I thought I’d write a parody slam poem, but what came to be is a half-decent poem that is written in a voice I’m not familiar with, a voice somehow not akin to the voices of my other works. Well, hope you like it.


Cause we speak through open windows

And passed closed doors

We whisper soft until streets of cities

Building peaked

Fill with syllables not even gutters

Can suck

And we siphon syllables

And crunch until fed

And we regurgitate as best we can

Whole words for folks to nod to

And I refuse to treat folks like refuse

Sometimes I treat people like street water


Street water can be saturated through and through

With words so full they burst and make puddles

Cause street water’s just rain

Just rain and exhaust

And I’m exhausted, and I’m rain

I bloom and I fall

The plumes of hate and pain are never amiss

Seemingly seeping deep into concrete worlds

So deep not even lighting cracks can absolve

The rock-still structures

But still flowers come

Through sidewalk slits and alley

Pits they come

Each spring they bounce in dirt and shit wind

And they never whinge, always all petal and brilliance

Grandma said

Tenacious is the flower that, despite harsh conditions,

Stands low heavy

We are low and heavy


Copyright 2015

Logan Mikal White-Mulcare


One Thought on “Whinge

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