Allen W. Fletcher

Bill MacMillan is the founder of the Worcester Poetry Slam and co-founder of the Worcester Poet’s Asylum.  He has toured throughout the eastern half of the U.S., and has done lectures and workshops on poetry.  In 1996, Bill was a member of the Providence Slam Team that won the national championship.  He lives in Worcester, Massachusetts, with his wife Sou (also a performance poet), and a future poetry powerhouse, their son, Liberty.

Bill is the former host of the Spoken Word Open Mic, Sunday nights at the Java Hut, 1073A Main St., Worcester.  (508) 752-1678 — now hosted by Tony Brown.
 

Samples of the poet’s work:

 
five thoughts

I.
this is your heart and this is my mind
and somewhere between the two
is everything we ever wanted

in a world where anything can happen
we happened

and now we wait for what comes next

II.
i have four tattoos

my family crest on my arm
to remind me of where i come from

a scottish lion on my ankle
to remind me of my history

an angel on my leg
to help guide my steps

and one for my first true love
intended to show permanence

now serving to remind me
that nothing lasts forever

III.
forever is what happens
when we close our eyes and dream

love is what we do with those dreams

IV.
i only believe what i can’t see
and that is why I close my eyes
when we make love

V.
this is your heart and this is my mind
and somewhere between the two
is everything we will be

in a world where anything can happen
we happened

and now we wait for what comes next
 

 
lights

"that's the bridge"
"my grampy put the lights on that bridge"

her eyes sparkle
like a child's
we are heading
to see grampy
and this is the bridge
he put the lights on
the verrazanno

but its hard to see the lights
in the daytime
so i sit
and watch new york
rise out of the horizon
count the miles to brooklyn

and she tells me the stories
of grampy
coming from union meetings
climbing girders in suit pants
not wasting time
changing

and the streets come alive
graffiti singing
of friends gone
"in memory of..."
on store sides
and handball courts
too many i think
too many of them

avenue z
brick stone stain glass
child snow stealing
as two men argue in russian
"this is where he lives"
she says

and a blur of movement
door buzz
and we are face to face
moishe and me
hello

and his apartment
looks like a movie set
plastic covered couch
old wood
and he is shorter
than i imagined

and he speaks of life
and death
and of love
"and we should go eat
you two are busy"
and there is a calmness
about him

and the man
who lighted the verrazanno
sits with seltzer
and talks about marriage
"we only dated three months
they said it would never last"
and it didn't
it only lasted 51 years

and he doesn't talk
about bridges
he talks
about missing her
and it was different
then

and when we are alone
he tells me
"you two are good together"
and that we will be happy
and that he only dated her
three months
"they said it would never last"
and he smiles
for 51 years
and misses her

and he is sad for the world
thinks its awful
what people do to each other
"they have anthrax to use
and worse, i saw it on tv"
and he shakes his head
and silently worries
about us

and i study his hands
i see them holding
the guide line
see them holding
his wife's hand
"we were married for 51 years"
he says
and i never met her
and i miss her

and the light
he is most proud of
died 11 years ago
and he does not talk of bridges
"they said it would never last"
he says and smiles me
and i understand
what he is saying

leaving the city
i spot the lights
of the verrazanno
and i know we will be ok
and we have moishe's blessing
and the lights are beautiful
tonight

gehe gedzuhnt grampy
 

 
odyssey

i read through my girlfriend's journal
only to find out that she thinks i used her
this is what i get for being nosy

i remember that Homer was blind
broken eyes and extraordinary vision
the feathers start to smoulder

i wonder if she ever really listened to me
becoming angry when i said
the only thing i wanted from life
is to be happy
she told me to be serious
serious happiness

Homer shakes some more dreams loose
smoke wisps rise
into the air

anti-depression drugs
can trigger mania in the undiagnosed
she sits in the cold revival tent
wonders if there really is
an all loving God
i sit in a dark club
remember a time when i hated
the smell of roses
breathe deep from the blossom and smile
sweetness and smoke
fire up the olfactory

it is redundant for Homer to close his eyes
the first flames appear in the darkness

i find myself engulfed by new
arms and feelings
unfamiliar but friendly territory
a catalogue of wedding invitations
is tossed emotionlessly in the trash
with my childhood
when i remove my foot
the lid closes by itself

Homer described the Sirens' cries too well
not to have heard them
the fire burns pure, consuming all

fingernails rake across my back
as i bite at the nape of her neck
all lovemaking involves some pain
the navel reminds us that we were all
once dependent on another
i suck on her nipple
like a child deprived of nourishment

Homer wonders if he should point out
that the rope holding them safe to the mast
is the same rope holding the bird close to their breast
the flames flicker out
leaving only ash in its wake

she prepares for her exodus
reads excerpts from Revelations
i lie in the dark
silently mouth the words
i love you
to the person curled against my skin
in a crowded theatre
more people die from the panic
than the flames

Homer stands on the waters edge
wonders what waves look like
the majestic bird flaps its wings
sends clouds of ash swirling to the heavens

i am driving at the top of my lungs
past and future dancing to the music of my screams
i stop at the waters edge
notice footprints in the sand
leading into the waves
but not out
the Phoenix lands on my shoulder
curls its talons into my heart
and waits

together
we watch the sunrise.
 

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