Dain Sundstedt and the Rockford Poetry Renaissance

Dain Sundstedt is one of the promising younger writers, well younger to me, that are indicative of the cultural Renaissance going on in Rockford.

Sinnissippi

If you look close you can catch a Sinnissipeek

Of a turkey in a tree

Down by the creek

Bands come here to play when it’s warm

But not now when it’s this cold

Sitting in the woods, far below the fold

I listen, write, listen, write

Mother nature speaks if you wait, I am told

Louder than Netflix, all 50 inches

And you can learn a lot more from the finches

This place

This, Place

It’s all outdoors

Always to please and never to bore

Close your eyes, breathe, and be

Sinnissippi

Dust

Can you tell?

There’s dust on the shelves

Dust on the floor

Dust on the door

Dust on the books

Dust in the nooks

Just about everywhere you look

Grown, multiplied, clumped, and smeared

I didn’t ask for it, but it’s here

An indica strain of my laziness

Or time spent doing adventurous things

If I don’t clean it up

my life might do the same

Because a pile of shit grows and grows

if you let it sit for a little bit

My bed doesn’t have any dust on it

Nor does the toilet seat…

I guess that’s a start

I’ll do the rest in the morning

Burnt Toast

No matter which way you slice it,

bread still tastes like bread, and burnt toast still tastes burnt.

You either choose to eat the black, charred, crumbled ash,

or reach for a new slice

This time though, turn the toaster down

Learn from the char

Because we know what happens if you keep the same settings

The taste is too bad to relive

Plus, I hear the grocery down the street has the best new artisan bread in town

So venture out, try it, slather some butter or spread,

whatever your jam

Just be yourself, the toaster will pop when it’s ready