Aye]

This is a bit of a cottage industry
we’re dealing with here yet,
so I can’t be arsed
to get off my keister
and support this unproven mission statement
without some kind of connection
to the local movers and shakers.

I’ll be blunt. Pudding supplies
have run rather short, I’m afraid.
I’ve simply no use for a companywide pudding shortage–
think of the optics.

We’re sitting at a juncture
crucial to the reckoning
of our very civility as we know it.
If I’m to be contracted for my time,
I must receive the personal assurance
that the pudding supply will be bolstered
at the beginning of each working week–
or I walk.

I’m not doing this to be the unfair guy here.
I’ve seen these pudding shortages happen in the past
[oh, about four or five times, aye].

Don’t you ever find it odd
that the companies with the most influential
leaders and donors are never asking their competitors
for their gamgams’ closely-held secret recipes?
We need to get there, people.

Jibberjab

Prattle off nonsensical jibberjab
for what?
Does it benefit the cosmos
to move air particles
more than the average organism?
There may be an upside
to increased social fortitude,
though its presence
currently can’t be brought about
by conversing with the source.
Modern methods preach research–
the patterns of self-aggrandizing youth
now freshly entering the labor force
must be recorded and studied,
analyzed for psychological concerns
and then swiftly monetized
for the sake of further capitalistic gerrymandering.

This sponsored content has been brought to you
by the Insta-Gram council:
“Vigilant Grandmothers of all Stripes
Watching the Backs of Excitable Types
Since 1981”

Decade 1: Commence Year 10/10!

9 years are officially in the books, and year 10 has now begun!

While 9 years doesn’t constitute a full decade, it does indicate to me that I’ve been persisting at this thing for a little while now, and I should use year 10 as the renaissance year, so to speak.

In a nutshell, it’s been a wild ride through my 20s. I’m grateful that I’ve been able to chart my growth on WHARVED. Here’s a breakdown of the most relevant personal highlights!

——

Year 1 (12/20/10 – 12/19/11) — blog establishment / major quarter-life crisis / discovery of WHARVED’s power to inspire me and help me recognize the value of my expression

Year 2 (12/20/11 – 12/19/12) — completion of undergrad (with only one hiccup, due in large part to WHARVED’s stabilizing influence) / first job out of school

Year 3 (12/20/12 – 12/19/13) — first job transition and subsequent disillusionment with the system / begin restaurant industry experience

Year 4 (12/20/13 – 12/19/14) — death of family dog / leaving the nest

Year 5 (12/20/14 – 12/19/15) — complacency and unawareness lead to regrettable circumstances, true fear and remorse ingrained in psyche for first time / bipolar 1 diagnosed

Year 6 (12/20/15 – 12/19/16) — much upheaval / beginning of 108-poem numbered series / Cubs win World Series (!!!!!!!!)

Year 7 (12/20/16 – 12/19/17) — completion of 108-poem numbered series / accepting fate of who I am only after trying to get too cute about it / move out of first apartment / NEW ERA marked consciously / Straitjacket Series conceived

Year 8 (12/20/17 – 12/19/18) — Straitjacket Series terminus / financial ruination and regret / learning daily feeling of toil in earnest / new idea EXPLOSION as genuine life is easier to access

Year 9 (12/20/18 – 12/19/19) — Continuing with genuine living and explosion of ideas / transitioning to exploiting skills and affinities for financial gain, as profiting is now imperative / 10,000 views!!

EXTRAPOLATION!

Year 10 (12/20/19 – 12/19/20) — Hindsight is 20/20, BUT if trends continue, year 10 will constitute a combination of the renewed idea explosion with a bit more of an organizational acumen (due to necessity, mainly). This will also be the year in which I turn 30, an age that I’ve heard is significant. One pledge I’ll make to myself, as I find myself looking over this chronology, is to take it all one day at a time. Just try to make an effort of some kind; you don’t have to do everything in one day, and you certainly don’t want to go about trying to reinvent the wheel.
Commencing year 10 means that I have 9 full years under my belt, and I can honestly say that I’ve continued the same thread of artistic exploration for this entire duration. There are dips and dives in productivity, but I always gravitate back toward WHARVED as my anchor in choppy waters. I tend to feel that I’ve strayed away from my truest self when I don’t focus on my WHARVED output, and it’s been made obvious in my personal history that I need this particular outlet for expression.

I also hope to have my 5,000th distinct visitor to WHARVED this year, which would be quite a milestone for a minimalist poetry blog in the 21st century.

As of this very moment, I have 1,145 posts labeled “poetry” on WHARVED (drafted and/or published), for a yearly average just above 127. Not too shabby, I says to myself [I says]. I expect to have at least the same amount of output, so as to continue the marvelous trend of exploration and continuous growth.

I’m forever thankful to you, the reader, for being party to my compositional and philosophical ramblings here. I’m only going to work to make even more things for you guys to enjoy, and perhaps on a more consistent basis (how many times have I said that?)!!

So let’s all raise a glass and have a toast for WHARVED!

Cheers, people!

-Aidan

On Good Authority

Mickey The Mantelpiece
has it on good authority
that Dinkins’ Corner
smells like hot dog water
and scorched sand
after the bungled boogaloo last Tuesday.
It’s more than likely
a result of that notorious
Basketweaving Barrelmuncher Brigade–
they usually leave a lasting impression
in this naïve neighborhood.

The Brigade, forever unsure of its tenuous future,
kept right on hoarding canned meats
like it was going out of style–
ever since we thought we’d licked
those midcentury wartime tendencies.

Never an organization keen on listening to reason,
the BBB (not to be mistaken
with the power-wielding force
that calls the local business shots)
must have leaked some spiced ham remnants
while making their hasty getaway
from the street that birthed their tendencies.

We’re gonna need to hold them responsible
for the odorous hullabaloo
they always leave in their sloppy wake
(as though they think we’re meek enough
to take it lying down, the cretins).
Mickey The Mantelpiece will head up the posse.

Wink Wink

Don’t allow the accomplishments of the more senior members of the artistic community frighten you into stagnation, young man (i.e. the type of artist who thinks that he’s probably getting a bit older these days [as one would naturally experience while living some kind of existence as we currently know it] but wouldn’t care to complain about it to anybody in his age group, because [after all] we’re all experiencing our own contemporary struggles that leave very little room for any kind of self-actualizing, let alone exploration of forms that connect our consciousnesses to one another in the form of communal expression).

Just continue to do what you’re going to do (wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more), and the self-prescribed purpose of your toiling will eventually unveil itself. The purpose may have actually [indubitably] been there from the start, and you (the recipient of a lifetime’s worries and schematics) are only just awakening to the possibility of its interconnectedness and unbounded potential when merged with the human psyche.

Then [and only then] will you uncover the true nature of our fictitious narrative centered around the cultivation of blue cheese cultures (and please don’t ask a tedious question as to why it’s cheese over every other possible culture, we’ve heard them all, trust us).

Hands and Knees

Owning up to the egregious malfunctions
held as the standard in social technology,
we must become better initiators of cosmic (or
at least karmic) change for the sake of our
tequila-rearing counterparts.

This bleak mindset–perpetuated to depress
the more sensitive-types and appease the oligarchs
for some preordained time–was perhaps
meant more for the unfolding
stalling of unified civility, or
just as some kind of morose cash grab.

The only ones who definitively know
where this particular roller coaster is headed
will also be the ones in the frying pan–come judgment day.
The justice system may not be done after all;
the ones who had hijacked office may snap
back to their senses before all is lost.

Endorphin meltdowns scream incontinence!
Mind you, this doesn’t mean we need to
get on our hands and knees and scrape the shit
from incompetent postal workers’ satchels.
We simply need to make a stand
for what’s good and proper in this,
our world of *TODAY ONLY* $19.99 deals.
Got to move that product, for Christ’s sake!

The Pine Box of Shortitude

Curatives of antiquity are now more necessary than ever before. We–the re-appropriated and inexplicably-gifted tree apes–think that through modernity (what a troublesome word) we have relegated the works of our ancestors to the obscure corners of the proverbial curio shop, when we have in fact abandoned the principles that caused our species to rise out of our loathsome bed of mud and shit in the first place.

Ergo, the abandonment of these principles will ultimately result in our return to the mud and shit (but hopefully not all the way back to the trees). We must be ever vigilant in the observance of the works of our world’s remaining unbroken cultures. It has been made abundantly obvious that these peoples have maintained their distinct civilizations through adherence to natural laws and at least an attempt to maintain a semblance of harmony.

Exhibit A: The Pine Box of Shortitude

Any time a recipe, technique or method becomes too effective for anyone to emulate without said act becoming an unbearable faux pas, the elders of the community must combine forces to capture its most essential components, record them into an intelligible (tangible) script and carefully lock it away in what has come to be known as, you guessed it, The Pine Box of Shortitude.

Why pine– Longleaf Pine, to be more specific? Its connection to dinosaur days and its subsequent shortage of specimens due to a variety of human-studded reasons are just two important takeaways. When the box was originally crafted, Longleaf Pine were abundant across the entire landscape. The progenitors of this curatorial tradition really could not have predicted such a significant shortage within the span of just a few generations, but as time passed and the omens became more clear, the box’s preservation inevitably became a top priority not only for its contents, but the vessel itself.

Hopefully this particular artifact will shed some light on how dire a situation this has become, where humans appear to have become at odds with the natural progression of this planet’s ecology. And if not? Eh, fuck it.