Say hello to our On Tech Editor-in-Chief, Hanna Ingber, who picked out a few favorites. Some of the hammer poems have been submitted by professional writers. Thank you for all.
Love’s cold cheeseburger
collapses on the hotel nightstand
next to the Flat Diet Coke of Freedom
in her paper cup of Boredom. The sad clown
of Destiny hangs on the bent nail of indifference
led into the purple wall of oblivion
by the lightly bent hammer of recklessness.
Oh, crispy homemade homesick fries,
knocked down on the ground,
scattered under the
unmade bed, the
– Matt mason, Omaha, currently Nebraska State Poet
Oh, how I love my hammer
it is such a beautiful tool.
It may lack glamor
but as a tool it’s cool.
– Alan Payne, Etowah, Tenn.
A hammer is what a man needs,
on a splashing november without heat
the sunlight comes and goes at noon,
like silver Chablis
thrown among the leaves;
the dark secret of the freshness of this cellar,
and nickel screw eyes,
the iron tooth of the hammer
there, in his cork board
wooden handle, wrapped
with gripping band
and waiting for solid use.
That’s all my century applauds.
Roundheaded: torn: capable;
manufacturer of rails and shingles;
now to shoot, now to tear,
now, if necessary, to kill.
– William orem, Emerson College