The Infinite Ox-Bow of Nothing: If Nobody’s Watching, Your Work Is Nada

I created this to no acclaim, ill or grand, although I like it a lot.

Then I created this in response to no response.

And here is an etherpad version as well.

And here is a blogcast version of the etherpad version:


  1. // Reply

    Hi Terry, I wonder how many lurkers passed through … how many incidental accidental influences have been made, especially over time from this very blog. I get a few a day. I doubt my ramblings in literal poetry is important to anyone but me– as you say. Still, I like that I’ve left a bit of something. A seed. A glance made after a wrong turn. A quick nod on a deliberate turn. I do know that I noticed a loss in my space when my friend “M” stopped posting her flowers. I reached out. I know I’d miss your words. Hopefully, in your retirement, we’ll see more. Just enough. ~ Sheri

    1. // Reply

      Hobo lurkers
      wandering through
      rubbing past
      picking up hitchhiker seeds
      and idly scattering them
      with a glance
      and a nod
      and a turn
      toward what is missing,
      invasive and non-native,
      just enough
      to flower and seed
      somewhere down the road.

    1. // Reply

      Driving home
      on my dark-hollerd lane
      Isolate and alone
      way more than I know
      A string of porchlights
      beckoning me
      a lighthouse
      a liferoap
      a ladder into
      the prisoning hills.

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