dylan tweney

if you're bored, you're not paying attention

Tag: Poems


scattered gravel along the bike path and one old champagne cork

untitled poem

3 floors above the alley where 2 young men examine 1 paycheck a window box of geraniums and a gray satellite dish and– what made me look– wind chimes ringing out 6/1/2010 published in A Handful of Stones, Oct 2, 2010

Some haiku from November

after the last train a man works the floor polisher alone almost snow calculus — the slow accumulationof almost nothing turning the corner into the sudden warmth of sunlight in a light raina woman pushes a shopping cart, singing “Wish You Were Here” new glasses: all of my mistakes now painfully clear the wool smell […]


One thing follows another,as sure as teeth meshwith teeth, the pinion turns the gear,the axle drives the wheel and the worldtumbles forward on its pivot:Some things are reversible,allowing for the unavoidable backlash,a little play, a wiggle in the works,a slap in the gears, the jerk of each caras the train gets underway,the taking up of […]

Chamber Music Society

The rosin dust on the violinist’soldest violin is white,like the chalk beneath the wordswhere children learn to writethe equations that will definethe arcs and angles of their work.Rosin is the trace of a hundredthousand notes, silent, no sparkremaining but the sense that allhas come to rest: the scratcheson the indestructible stands,the shabby folding chairs, matchesin […]