this is my first poem in a new format i thought of and called a dollar. It has one hundred words and can be free text or structured. there is no need for a title and it should be whimsical and not aggressive or pointed – somewhat similar to the guidance for Eurovison songs.

here is the first ever poetic dollar – one hundred words that make sense or cents….

I don’t have Depression. I don’t possess it. it is not a thing I choose to put in my back-pack. It is a horrible friend that found me, It comes to parties uninvited, it ruins the dinner and uses the table as a washroom, then leaves without paying the waiter. I run strange plays but the evil friend in darkness will be waiting for me at every turn; I wonder if I tell him a happy memory about when I smiled, ate, danced, hot-tubed, sang, skied, loved and learned and just maybe he will leave me alone for a while.

This is one I call a ‘double dollar’ made up from 50 song titles, no meaning intended…

You and me, since we learned how to make gravy in your Lego house, playing a wicked game reminding me to stay in your rainbow connection. I feel so close but the sidewinder sleep tonight. If you want me, just be the one I love under red lanterns on this holly holy night? The rocky world September morn, Joelene, was a hole in the river – flooding poor bloodbuzz Ohio and Walt Graces’s submarine test in this heart shaped sea found my love on the rocks in Bomber’s bay. At my funeral, the hurt of many, for the one – reviewing my soap box opera sending me home again with trembling hands. Don’t save me from my bitter sweet symphony; the graceless end for a solitary man my lullaby with no air until when my baby’s beside me (or rumour has it someone like you…) I need you now, but it is breaking the girl… Boy’s don’t cry! So wrong! Belly knots, heartbeat free falling surging as only the horses know. “ live like you are dying” he said “I am” I said. On the other dirt patch the boys light a black chandelier in Budapest (spared by Enola Gay).