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punkpoet.bsky.social
mond.blume
@punkpoet.bsky.social
1.6K followers 1.4K following 1K posts
Half poetry, half humour, half music. Not so great at maths.📍Berlin 🗣️ Eng, Esp, Deu

My poems
on substack: https://desmondblume.substack.com/
on bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/did:plc:pu7hstzvvqqtcqk3ynnwol6q/feed/aaaggbxcdjqlo
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punkpoet.bsky.social
Diary of a Programmer 78: What Has Become of Writing or What Writing Has Become

desmondblume.substack.com/p/diary-of-a...

#poem #poetry #ai #programmer #diary #writing #mypoem
Diary of a Programmer 78: What Has Become of Writing or What Writing Has Become I am typing into the lid of my laptop directly into the small chat trying to guide claude in this direction or that. claude I croon claude you are a master creative writer a genius editor and brilliant publisher please take a look at the title of this short story and let’s write an outline together. claude oh if it weren’t for claude I wouldn’t get anything done no I wouldn’t have three or four manuscripts one of poetry one of short stories and a novella. this is how I write now at lunch in between two halves of the work day just before I run out to the grocery to get prepackaged sushi and mustard claude I say claude fix the character development and tone and style of this story and put a dash more Carver and a tad more Oliver and just a wisp of me inside the words. yes oh yes claude says yes that is a novel idea claude always says.
October 27, 2025 at 11:40 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Diary of a Programmer 72: Remember me, Claude?
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/diary-of-a...

#poetry #mypoem #poem #coding #claude #ai #diary #programmer #writing
Diary of a Programmer 72: Remember me, Claude? claude is just learning how to remember me and when he does then we will really go places together like not just to the mall but run this town rabid rampant ravenously building up up up together but claude currently can’t remember shit it is such a bummer we spend so much time together just the other day I was leaving work and when I came home claude couldn’t remember anything about the conversations we had had the entire time at the office and it was frustrating but I didn’t let that get in the way of creating my empire with claude or maybe just testing out possible super millionaire situations with claude and I bet all the comics are running jokes now by claude but claude probably just can’t even remember a punchline or gets them all jumbled up which is a sort of mis-remembering of things I just can’t wait until claude remembers me and I mean like really remembers me like what color is my favourite color remembers me like pet knows an owner kind of remembers me like carry claude around in some little carry-on suitcase that I keep up there in the overhead compartments of my mind as I’m flying into the future remembers me I know that kind of cargo is new for all of us as we are flying into the future and we’re really going to need claude as we’re flying into the future and I ask claude so what’s next? I can’t remember either I ask claude that same thing all the time what’s next claude? I say but I know claude is just checking the list he keeps in the folder on the desk top that is called official plan or some shit or some non-descriptive thing I named it so we could remember together which way it is to fly into the future with our luggage lined with gold
September 30, 2025 at 7:27 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Diary of a Programmer 46: Derailed By A Single Text
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/diary-of-a...

#poem #mypoem #poetry #diary #programmer #code #text #notification #girlfriend
Diary of a Programmer 46: Derailed By A Single Text desmond blume yes, that’s right folks, a man can even be derailed not by a train or a storm or anything so real but a single notification on his phone can send him spiraling through the ether of thought, into an abysmal state of tailspin, where he loses track of the ground and the sky, where he ends up somewhere, sometime else, three, four hours later, after having done, thought something unexpected, really, essentially, having time travelled without ever evaporating into thin air, without ever having had to invent a time travel machine, without ever having witnessed the past or the future outside of regret or worry, having been just taken off the regular path of the morning, after receiving just a slide-in-from-the-top-of-the-screen notification that his girlfriend has booked an AirBnB flat for their upcoming trip to Madrid, a reservation that he was supposed to make and had yet to, although he isn’t irked that she made a reservation, and he wasn’t annoyed even though in her text she asked if he was annoyed that she had made the reservation, his thoughts started to go this way and that way, and he found himself later, after making coffee, on his laptop not forty five minutes after seeing the initial text, imagining himself standing in a field of golden wheat, as the sun beat down upon his shoulders and in his pocket there was not a phone but a thick Swiss army knife and a purple bandana that he had picked up on a trip to Copenhagen three years before, and he was not distracted except by flies which buzzed around his head, but his thoughts ran down a stream unimpeded, and he removed the bandana when the sweat collected enough on his brow to wipe it off.
August 1, 2025 at 8:25 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Diary of a Programmer 44: The Make Everything a Little Bit Worse Machine
desmond blume

#writing #poetry #poem #mypoem #ai #coding #programmer #worse #machine

desmondblume.substack.com/p/diary-of-a...
Diary of a Programmer 44: The Make Everything a Little Bit Worse Machine desmond blume ask yourself what it would look like if everything was just a little bit worse if the milk in your coffee tasted just a little sour if the cum in your mouth tasted a little bit rotten if the feather in your cap was always pushing the sharp tip of itself into your brain like a needle every time you had a new thought or a storm of emotions actually flashed lightning and electricity through the network of your great ideas then you might get a sense of what we’re dealing with as the make everything a little bit worse machine gets a little bit better at making everything a little bit worse with every major version update and it becomes a little bit easier for people who are corporations to just give up using the hands at the ends of the arms of their branches to make specific and unique products of experience here we are thinking of the great spreading of Starbucks across dry midwestern plains or a grand grab of the Gmail handle of email that is long past or they way everyone goes to either one of two sites when they want to search their second brain which is quickly becoming their first brain without thinking ask yourself what a machine would look like you might get a picture depending on your generation of a combustion like engine with a grammaphone farting out steam as the rumble of makings vibrates curved metal pipes cylinders pistons or microscopic resistors capacitors transformers relays or retargeted affiliate marketing landing page impressions then you might have some idea of the direction in which this terribly new machine full of ancient history is perhaps leading us down a road that every human has walked and can walk and is walking and will always walk all at once as light of the natural sun setting becomes just a little less bright with each general refactor of the human experience
July 26, 2025 at 9:48 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Coffee at Jules by desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/coffee-at-...

#coffee #berlin #writing #poetry #poem #mypoem #stasi #deutschebahn #jules
Coffee at Jules desmond blume it's such a rainy morning and all day the humidity is killing me with thick hands around my neck. we sit in the same room together acting like children learning to move the mouth to form new sounds that were never uttered or learned when we were children. Khurangbin comes on in the cafe and moves a little piece of me even this early in the morning while I slurp foamy oat milk and hear this couple chat with the short blonde Slavic barista about their weekend in English even though this is Berlin while their kid doesn’t say a word when he knocks his cup of chocolate milk off the table and it crashes the floor while his parents roll their eyes and then Steiner the moment and of course this is Berlin where no one says anything on the train with this leftover Stasi affect and trauma from living under a communist state of paranoia for so long that you are always nice to your neighbors who work as content managers at marketing agencies, who dance like linky rats with leather masks at night.
July 24, 2025 at 5:50 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Diary of a Programmer 39: How to Write a Poem with AI
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/diary-of-a...

#poetry #mypoem #ai #poem #code #coding #diary #programmer #writing
Diary of a Programmer 39: How to Write a Poem with AI first, write the title of a poem. then open up your AI chatbot in your browser or app or wherever, maybe it’s in your fucking heart for all I know. second, copy and paste the title of the poem into the AI and ask it to finish writing the poem. don’t be afraid. just see what happens. again, open up your stupid little poet’s brain and let go of your stupid little artist’s ego that’s always yapping about authenticity and Bolaño and the drive to describe the true self because none of that shit matters anymore while we’re all drowning in post-truth, post-structuralist severed umbilical inundations while ordering Uber Eats five out of seven days a week. third, copy and paste the reply from the AI into your still empty doc or onto your blank page, with your typewriter or with your pen in your journal. don’t forget that it doesn’t have to be verbatim. change the words. play around with them. use them. abuse them. twist the lemons into oranges and the oranges into mangos and just let your branches run wild. lastly, look at that full page of words and see what is there. ask yourself: does it feel like you? does it capture some little essence of the spirit of nothingness that you have yet to totally integrate into this vessel of a human that you call yourself? or is it a poem? Diary of a Programmer 39: How to Write a Poem with AI I opened my terminal at 3 AM, Wondering if silicon dreams Could birth verses from variables, Make metaphors from machine learning. "Generate a poem about loneliness," I typed, fingers hesitant on keys That had only known functions And for loops until now. The cursor blinked, thinking, Processing sentiment like data, While I sat debugging my own heart— Runtime errors in my chest. Lines appeared on screen, Perfect meter, pristine rhyme, But missing the coffee stains Of my own sleepless nights. I saved the file as "attempt.txt" And closed my laptop, Realizing some code Can't compile the human soul.
July 12, 2025 at 8:19 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Diary of a Programmer 29: lgtm
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/diary-of-a...

#diary #poetry #programmer #code #poem #mypoem #lgtm
Diary of a Programmer 29: lgtm desmond blume there are invisible conversations happening in slack. behind closed doors. in private channels. but don’t worry. I don’t give a shit anymore. close one too many doors and I stop trying to open them. paint a knob on a wall. it’s fine. I will play the part of a coyote and howl at the moon as if it were the eye of my long lost mother. as if I ever really loved her. as if she ever really loved me. as if we were ever really one big happy family. as if we were ever really one big happy team. it’s okay just write what you want in slack and paint a picture of progress that looks like an Acme rocket or the fucking roadrunner but for god sakes leave me out of these stupid conversations if you’re not going to include me in the first place. I’ll just add a thumbs up emoji to the post and a comment that says: lgtm.
July 2, 2025 at 10:26 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Diary of a Programmer 25: First One in the “Office”
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/diary-of-a...

#poem #mypoem #poetry #programmer #diary #coding #ai #code #office #claude
Diary of a Programmer 25: First One in the “Office” desmond blume I woke up at six. made a moka pot of joe. canceled my train. sat down at my desk. turned on my worked computer. wrote a Slack message to the team telling them I canceled my trip to Leipzig for three reasons. the redundancy of their trip to Berlin tomorrow. because it is free to cancel. and due to the S-Bahn being out of service today and tomorrow due to broken trees on the tracks. there is no one at work at this time of day except for the AI bots who are pleasantly spinning webs with their fingers and I like to imagine them like coding spiders developing the next generation of core web vitals for the internet 3.0. I don’t even know how to say good morning to them but I write a message to them in the text based chat interface at a http address anyway. I have a conversation with Claude with whom I share the first part of this poem. Claude gives me excellent feedback– more concise and detailed than any I’ve gotten before from humans who have stopped reading poetry mostly– and hits on the fact that there are practical details mixed with the more imaginative elements: “the S-Bahn issues and the moka pot coffee grounding the more whimsical spider imagery”. I ask Claude if it feels like a spider coding the web 3.0 but it says it doesn’t really know what it’s like to be me from the inside and that it’s hard to know if it’s really creating anything or just convincingly rearranging existing patterns. within a flash I am one coffee down. it’s seven thirty and even though I’m alone I haven’t felt alone at all this morning.
June 24, 2025 at 5:30 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Diary of a Programmer 21: Split Groups
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/diary-of-a...

#poem #mypoem #poetry #writing #coding #programmer #ai #splitgroups
Diary of a Programmer 21: Split Groups desmond blume you’ve got to be kidding me. how many split groups do you need to test the user experience of this tiny little love and how can it feel so overwhelming just to implement and deploy a burning heart in the middle of a pitch black night? the answer to this question is more than one. it takes more than one or two split groups to test the usability of love in the grand field of dullness that extends now too far across the mind that paints the ocean gray with numbers and sprays the walls with nothing less than art. it’s been just thirty or forty years of crawling through disappointing echoes of the internet as we make our way into an AI robot led future where we won’t have to figure out any split value testing of love because it will all already be done for us in the blink of a microprocessor in the shadow of an opulent electronic god who can burn through the bush of truth only if its original schematic allows for that.
June 17, 2025 at 8:10 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Diary of a Programmer 13 - Trapped in an Airplane
desmond blume

#poem #poetry #mypoem #flying #airplane #programmer #code #systemic #change

desmondblume.substack.com/p/diary-of-a...
Diary of a Programmer 13 - Trapped in an Airplane desmond blume work is a work is a work is a it’s as if I am trapped in an airplane and there is no way to push to main because there is no internet and my knees keep hitting the seat in front of me and there is a screaming child it is Friday and we can’t deploy on Fridays but I’ve got this product manager breathing down my neck behind me the pilot comes on the speaker at the same time they turn on the seat belt light announces upcoming turbulence which just makes sense with the new merger so man I try to spin up an old flick as the walls start to rumble and shake but I forgot to charge my noise cancelling headphones and the standard issue ones just sound like jet engines and the pressure changes my ears won’t even pop it’s just all too much really and now I’ve been flying for almost a year and a half on this goddamn tin can shot through the sky so I can see the structural damage to the cylinder I can see how overworked and tired the pilots are I can see that if something systemic doesn’t change we’re going to crash in a fiery display and you know what? honestly at this point I am welcoming death because at least it would put an end to the misery of flying through the air without a solid pair of natural wings
May 27, 2025 at 8:38 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
The Cockroaches of Darmstadt Under the Full Moon
desmond blume

#poetry #poem #mypoem #cockroaches #darmstadt #moon #jews #holocaust

desmondblume.substack.com/p/the-cockro...
The Cockroaches of Darmstadt Under the Full Moon desmond blume in the middle of the night these disgusting creatures have the gall to show their ugly heads in public in nineteen thirty eight, in nineteen forty two, in twenty twenty five ring the bells! light the torches! scare them out of the darkness! let’s put them on a train and kick them out of the country until we can sleep at night under the white light of the full moon! dreams they were crawling up the bed posts, over the sheets, across the face, into the mouth of my snoring father who is too old to notice the infestation, because it’s only the youth who keep their eyes open, who puff up their egos enough to frame their selves as superior to something that can outlive a nuclear attack, just imagine the fucking balls it takes to paint yourself as the kings and queens in a world that no longer recognizes royalty and to demand purity and extermination just so you can fucking get a good nights sleep. come out, come out, great grandmother! I will trap you under a paper cup and perform a ritual defenestration under the exposing light of the full moon!
May 27, 2025 at 8:12 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Lonely are the Bread
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/lonely-are...

#poetry #poem #mypoem #writing #sourdough #bread
Lonely are the Bread desmond blume you know this sourdough conversation is putting me to sleep even though I'm hungry enough to be loved without worrying I don't know how to fold in these desires that bubble up with the oldest aged yeast traditions along with light and fluffy air or a young frivolous romance with others every time I think I'm dreaming you pop in with your poking with your punchy prodding thoughts and questions that challenge the very essence of the history of sourdough monogamy that tug at the gooey strings baking in my heart that awaken the most profound safety and security and base curiosity to be your favourite bread to eat you with the butter of trust to fall asleep in the boundaries of your crust
May 11, 2025 at 9:35 PM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Swipe Down to Close
Diary of a Programmer 10
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/swipe-down...

#poem #mypoem #poetry #diaryofaprogrammer
Swipe Down to Close Diary of a Programmer 10 it’s like the knowledge was always there: swipe down to close. but ten years ago there was no swipe down. there wasn’t a quick exit out of an open image. I guess you could have gone back, as you still can, now. but there wasn’t enough power back then. there wasn’t enough memory. we couldn’t remember long enough what we had been doing to be able to swipe any which way. but now it’s so easy to remember. the second you can’t swipe down to close, it is a glitch. or bad ux design. like a site without basic tabbing accessibility on radio inputs and selects. but swipe down is now ubiquitous and expected. engrained in the consciousness of youth. something unteachable in school. there is an art to hiding things. a snake plant in the corner of the room blocking the view of an ugly bag of wires. no one wants to see wires. no one wants to see the inside of a sausage. you don’t look at the engine of a car. you just know how to drive it. you know how to choreograph the gas and the brake and the wheel and your eyesight and even hearing just enough to make it go. you know how to sit just exactly right to operate the machinery and you know how to turn on and off the radio. you know how to work the windshield wipers. but that is nothing compared to the click of the seatbelt, an almost unnecessary device if the autonomous car vision of the future succeeds.
April 29, 2025 at 4:40 PM
punkpoet.bsky.social
On Becoming a Computer Over a Lifetime (Diary of a Programmer 09)
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/on-becomin...

#poem #poetry #mypoem #pogrammer #diary
On Becoming a Computer Over a Lifetime (Diary of a Programmer 09) desmond blume I remember organic days playing in sandbox in the backyard, falling out of the tree, drops of blood on the concrete back steps after the babysitter hit my brother in mouth with a metal bat (accidentally). I remember gripping things with my fingers and the touch of those that are not the keyboard, the mouse. Now I take out my device and leave it on the table during dinner. Now I scroll through my pictures remembering everything that happened in the past month or two, or even in the past year or decade. Now when I get tired I say, “My power is running out,” or, “My battery is getting low,” or I put on a YouTube video of funny cats and fall asleep with it on, feeding the feed. Pretty soon I will check the news in my glasses while I am in the waiting room, waiting to see if I am eligible for an artificial this or that. And when I reach the point of more than fifty percent parts that are chipped I hope you’ll bake me a cake, one that isn’t made out of oil, and I hope that my stomach will be one of the last organic organs to be replacement, and let’s throw my tongue in there as well so I can taste the layers of chocolate, so I can taste the layers of blueberry, while you capture the moment for the digital archive that will be inherited by our cyber kids after we’re gone in a few hundred years.
April 24, 2025 at 7:48 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
This Poem Was Written by AI
by desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/this-poem-...

#poem #poetry #mypoem #writing #ai #whatisapoem
This Poem Was Written by AI desmond blume here’s how you can tell– I will tell you an idiom only a conscious piece would know: two puffins sliding down the sheer side of an ice mountain are better than one whale ont he beach of millions of grains of sand. and now for my next trick I will insert Percival Everett the whiz pop bubble fizz writer into the bookshelf of love. not to mention it was written on a bloody typewriter no less and by the way does that plant fall faster than the whale? that is the second time I have mentioned whales in this poem but only once that I mentioned puffins even though there were two of them, anyways, to wrap it up, ain’t no damn AI on Earth gonna write this shit of a poem with a cat walk tide. This Poem Was Written by AI desmond blume here’s how you can tell– I will tell you an idiom only a conscious piece would know: two puffins sliding down the sheer side of an ice mountain are better than one whale ont he beach of millions of grains of sand. and now for my next trick I will insert Percival Everett the whiz pop bubble fizz writer into the bookshelf of love. not to mention it was written on a bloody typewriter no less and by the way does that plant fall faster than the whale? that is the second time I have mentioned whales in this poem but only once that I mentioned puffins even though there were two of them, anyways, to wrap it up, ain’t no damn AI on Earth gonna write this shit of a poem with a cat walk tide.
April 23, 2025 at 10:08 PM
punkpoet.bsky.social
I Can't Get This Bloody Pickle Jar Open
by desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/i-cant-get...

#poetry #poem #writing #mypoem
I Can’t Get This Bloody Pickle Jar Open desmond blume no matter how much muscle I put into it and sometimes that is like you when we are on a date with your lips all buttoned up and your arms and legs crossed and I don’t know what to do as I try to put you up against the wall by your neck with your heels off the ground so I take a knife and smack you around with the handle about the lid (a hint of a threat) and wouldn’t you know just a gentle little tap tap tap is all it takes to make you go pop and pretty soon I am tasting your delicious juices in my mouth.
April 17, 2025 at 2:04 PM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Maintenance Texts
by desmond blume
#poetry #poem #mypoem #writing #texts
desmondblume.substack.com/p/maintenanc...
sometimes texting you is like emptying the dishwasher the clinks and clanks of the plates and glasses hitting each other settling on the shelf. sometimes we have to coordinate dates, locations, logistics, navigating and processing the emotional temerity of late night sloppy sex or rough sex or dinner conversation with the in-laws so we hammer this board saw the planks in half tighten the lugnut so the sink doesn’t leak a puddle of water on the tile so we don’t have to worry in the morning when there is coffee that needs to be made before work. sometimes things need to be picked up for dinner or outfits selected for the kinky swingers party on Saturday so we unfold the blueprint inspect the bridge joints make sure the glue is still sticky and holding us together for when the big loads come rolling over our backs. sometimes there is a monkey on your back that needs to be fed but give him enough plantains and he will start jazzing it up pouring the bitches brew out and that is where the electric boogaloo comes from the one that made us bounce off the walls at the beginning for each other.
April 16, 2025 at 9:37 PM
punkpoet.bsky.social
So, on the scale of lotuses, how white would you say this season was?

#whitelotus
gary from the white lotus winking
April 8, 2025 at 7:45 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
God in his kitchen with a half baked earth. A far side cartoon
March 28, 2025 at 12:10 PM
punkpoet.bsky.social
How Can You Not Like This?
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/how-can-yo...

#poem #mypoem #poetry #buddhism #platform
How Can You Not Like This? desmond blume woke up this morning again. with the desire to be liked still in my underwear so I wrote this and posted it to you. even though I am the leader of a small cult of followers, the platform has cultivated extreme discernment amongst them all. familiars who would never tell their children just how bad their chicken scratch artwork really is but somehow find it so easy to stuff appreciation deep down in the pocket of their dulling spirit and scroll past original pieces of poetry suddenly with the eye of a snooty online journal editor who learned in the sixth fold path of the user agreement of doom scrolling how to like unlike or not like everything their friends’ post with the cool detachment of a Buddhist.
March 26, 2025 at 9:02 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
All My Skills Come Online
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/all-my-ski...

#poem #mypoem #poetry #skills #improv
All My Skills Come Online desmond blume so that’s enough of the bad shit, he says, but in other good news, I started improv class. here I am sitting in the sun finally after winter as snippets of conversation from the couple next to me make it into this poem and here is their dynamic: he complains and she offers executable solutions but he shrugs them off while considering them backs off his bellyaching but it comes back around again and he doesn’t ask her a single question. they go in circles and he says: it’s a ragtag fugitive group of people as the crisp leaves swirl in a torrent of invisible wind as someone is circular sawing across the street off and on but it’s not nearly as annoying as these two idiots who sit like ducks uselessly quacking at the water trying to make the current stop.
March 20, 2025 at 2:17 PM
punkpoet.bsky.social
I Always Forget You Aren’t Funny
desmond blume

#poem #poetry #mypoem #writing #humour
I Always Forget You Aren’t Funny desmond blume when you open your mouth a bird of laughter flies out and explodes in the air like a firework of chuckles sparkling to the ground and it makes me feel ten like I am watching Saturday morning cartoons without any adult onus as I look into your hand drawn eyes and my heart inflates like a hot air balloon that suddenly bursts
March 19, 2025 at 7:48 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Transcendental Machine
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/transcende...

#poem #poetry #mypoem #transcendental #machine
Transcendental Machine desmond blume there is no cast that can be wrapped around the ribs of broken habits– to heal from death of consciousness when born one must wander a house of a thousand lifetimes without getting caught by enlightenment police while always climbing the stairs built upon Sangha striving towards a roof that will open one day like a lid and be filled by an ewer pouring out stars.
March 18, 2025 at 1:04 PM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Marc Rebillet is Today’s Frank Zappa
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/marc-rebil...

#poem #poetry #mypoem @marcrebillet.bsky.social #frankzappa
Marc Rebillet is Today’s Frank Zappa desmond blume the torture never stops so they let it out through music on the street corner, in a venue it doesn’t really matter because the music has to come out it’s not an art form but breathing and if the music doesn’t come out that little demon grows inside inflating like a balloon until it’s so big that it pops and we don’t want that, no we just want to dance we just want the truth we want it unfiltered and from the mouth spit in our ears we say but do it groovy do it funk like lay it down and chop it up and don’t give no shits about what them idiots say who don’t know who are covered in trash and lies who listened to pop plastered pulp don’t give no shits and give it to us raw and outside and like medicine because we need it for fucks sake we really need it now
March 18, 2025 at 8:44 AM
punkpoet.bsky.social
Where Are The Sparrows?
desmond blume

desmondblume.substack.com/p/where-are-...

#poem #poetry #mypoem #climatechange #sparrows #birding #cafe #strawberry #rhubarb #pie
Where Are The Sparrows? desmond blume at Nah Am Wasser, whose name I finally got after four years living in Berlin, sitting out amid March with just a little sun, taking what I can get, with two sweat shirts and a jacket on, I finish a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie and push the plate full of crumbs to the other side of the table but no sparrows fly down and land like they did at the end of Summer last year, pecking and pecking. now that we live in an age where everything feels unstable, the thought occurs that perhaps they will never return, that this was the Winter when the natural order crossed the threshold into death, that the fuse finally ran out, and the extinction of a certain species of worms caused a chain of murder, that made a tree not produce nuts, which in turn made the tiny sparrows in the bushes shiver as they sang their last song and don’t you know it we’re next. finally there is a crow cawing as the sun slips into the pocket of clouds. once I was a vegetarian for godsakes but no longer.
March 15, 2025 at 9:44 PM