JK Miller is a former third grade dual language teacher. He lives on the edge of cornfields.
He is the first place winner in the modern sonnet category of the 2025 Helen Schaible International Sonnet Contest.
His poetry has been recently published, or will be, in shoegaze literary, Midsummer Dream House, Harrow House, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, Academy of the Heart and Mind, Rat’s Ass Review, 50-Word Stories, Verse-Virtual, Paratextos, Amethyst Review, The Poetry Lighthouse, Adelaide Literary Magazine and January House Literary Review. He has a new chapbook out, Bicycling Poems.
In the summer of 2025, he completed a solo 1,335-mile bicycle ride from his house to his son’s house to see his baby grandson, Rooney.
Here is a poem I wrote about my life when I was sixty years old. I was watching the timer on the microwave as it counted sixty seconds to heat up a cup of coffee. It prompted a quick succession of memory snapshots.
Watch the Diode Timer
I watched the diode timer
on the microwave
count down
my coffee
warmed up
from sixty to zero
each second
the magnetron
sent
five inch
radio waves
to vibrate
the molecules
until the heat
on my tongue
on the roof
of my mouth
in my throat
and finally
in my breast
applauded
and sent my fingers
clacking out
a long line
but one time
I watched each blue-green
idiotic second
tick
and for each
a fragment
of raw
memory
flicked
from then on
I made it a discipline
time after time
to stand there
and watch the memories
fold up
into the gleam
of my father’s eye
my life:
to go,
expressed
and so
I memorized
some scenes
until the exercise
became
well
counterproductive:
certain neuron paths
got stronger
and took over
shaping
the look
of my life
into
something
respectable
before my brain
corrupted
my soul
I wrote
I think:
60
On one side
of the 12-nozzled
white and purple
comet bullet
fountain
sprinkler
you
on the other
a diaspora
of wet
59
My dog’s folds
of yellow fur
under his chin
feel so thick
my hands
grope and fumble
the black line
of his wet
nose jowls
lifts and tucks
regally
heaven bound
beyond the back door
until I feel
the choke collar
links
give
58
A flock of geese
its honk stilled
not getting
in formation
confused
by the big sky
vapor trail
X
57
Law School
Graduation Day
a fuchsia robe
a golden tassel
a purple dress
a promise of
lives
diverging
56
The Sunday predawn
blueberry picking
wolf pack
howler
riders:
packing down
carriage trails
and cruising into
rainy deserted
Bar Harbor:
joy
55
The hills of Iowa
pummeling
the moveable
feast-ride-fest-song
driving shards
of ache
as we rode our bikes
along
54
On a tongue
of Pacific sand
rocks the color of the moons of Jupiter
as smooth and round to the eye
tumbled from an igneous mouth
washed down
many rivers
to Bolinas Lagoon
stud the beach
53
Alone with the newness
of her body
and the prospect
of tomorrow’s
luminescence:
she got her braces off
teeth bright
as a Midwest moon
Me in front
of the mirror:
Hold fast to dreams
for this
is where they go
to sing
52
New Hampshire again:
salt water taffy
Medusa-like
Wednesday night
fireworks
blueberry pancakes
and coffee mugs
filled with
ice cream
slow churned
French silk
explosion
51
My three-year-old
puzzling eyes
holding raptly
the cocked heads
of a pair
of beautiful
New Hampshire birds–
Lawrence and June
“Have all you like, dear.”
50
Hanging drywall,
plastering it,
sanding it until
my tongue is thick
with the dry taste
of dry
painting
coat after coat
on it
white after white:
making a room
for my son
49
My daughter’s toothy
delight
peeking
from books,
blankets
hats
brown crumbs
books again
toupees of shampoo and ice cream
snow
strong arms
sometimes all at once
48
Gray beard
and grizzle-scarred
uphill throbbing thighs
become the way
of my father’s face
thinking
I am beyond thinking
can my children still
screw up?
47
Empty spots
in the perennial
shade garden
uncontrollable
unspeakable
swelling zucchinis
in futile
hotel beds
46
The rye bread
taste
on your tongue
dances along
I tried to wash
it down
with morning coffee
and a daily lesson
but Sweetness
you
rose up
and grabbed me
by the collar
pulling me back
for more.
45
Snow like foam beads
from pillows
small and square
and squishy
toed
stocking appendages
remind me
your legs
are tucked
between mine
you smile
and spill smoothly
onto the hard sheets.
44
Winter holds us
in its fat arms
until one day
we wake up
feel our ribs
crack
at the unbid
breath
the undone
death
the defiant
purple crocuses
waving
frantically
43
The lake
the wedding
black and white
cracked plate
spaghettification
the event
all over
the black hole
horizon
42
Coming up north
we ran
off the highway
straight into
corn rows
until the catalytic
converter
burned
right through
the floor boards
41
Banged on snags
the canoe tip
brags
the big heart
springs
pump out
400 million
gallons a day
and float us
down
ancient
limestone
ways
40
A syncopal episode:
the heart is squeezed
the brain is freezed
what it shows
frozed
is a classic rub
I surrender
39
Windows down again
This time
the drive shaft
will go
but not before
hot dogging it
through Hot Springs
Arkansas red limestone reluctantly
handing over quarry rubble
shards of broken wizard’s glass
blood-veined crystals
snatched from the crooked fingers
of the Ouchita River
38
Windows down
chewing on a peach pit
baby in the back seat
teething
camping at Big Bone Lick
slogging through the mud
along the banks
of the Tahquamenon
Pukwudgies
all around
37
Hurricane Andrew
first day teaching
one caused
more destruction
than the other
36
Smoked pages
pinned
red light
get out
careful pluck
that
guitar:
it’s electric
35
Deep green
and forgiving
cold
34
Red rocks
brown hills
crystals
ebullient orgies
of spring water
33
South Beach swims
the coral fringe
a haircut
at strike
headquarters
32
Buffing 727s
midnight
in the halogen hangar
talking to
the airplane mechanics
at Eastern Airlines
machete wielding
sugarcane cutters
in Belglade
tomato picking
migrants
in Homestead
“Better to vote
for what you want
and not get it.”
31
Pushing the stroller
through Jersey City
to the bus station
every morning
smelling the smoking earth
risen into
the sweet and rancid
dew.
30
Operating two
Harris presses
one 29 inch
one 36 inch
at the same time
eating a package
of Archway
Oatmeal Cookies.
29
The clang of steel
rebar
sliding under my blade
28
Extruding
plastic
chainsaw cases
and burning
my fingers
on the molds
27
Forming sidewalks
with 2 x 4s
turning the bath water
black
each night
cleaning up after
Becky’s French
cooking
26
Jealousy
like an inscrutable cat
staring at what
was brought in:
my sweaty bandana
Maurice Bishop
the Reagan political
pin
“Let’s Make America
Great Again”
again?
25
Laying out flyers
in the GSU cafeteria
a bottle of
rubber cement
on the table
between us
Paying the cabbie
with a check for 4.25
drinking beer
from a snub-nosed bottle
with Rob Callahan
in the morning
24
Driving up to Atlanta
and stopping on a hill
rolling backward
in my orange
Corolla
panicking
at the
bump
23
Planning the Latin American
Solidarity Tour
with Mirta Vidal and
the Marlboro Man
James Nolan
compressing Argentina
into poems
discovering new
journalism
22
I rode my bike
to the Seven Eleven
where I worked
but didn’t pay
the Causeway toll
the police chased
my two axles
until I lost them
cutting through a motel
courtyard
onto the beach
I cranked
until my wheels sank
into the soft
sand
21
I woke up
in Spanish class
dreaming
of Don Quixote
the other students
and the professor gone
my glasses
resting
akimbo
across my
drooling lips.
20
My father cranked the winches
tinkered with the motor
raised the anchor
reefed the mainsail
plied the warm waters
of the Gulf
and collected
his marine tropicals
keeping their tanks
clean and
waters gushing
without me
19
Hitchhiked
from Miami International
across Alligator Alley
then
couldn’t get a ride
drenched in a Pall Mall haze
I spoke Spanish to them
when they stopped
these American drivers
18
Escaping the death squads
defending Pablo Neruda
drinking wine
and laughing
with a roommate
who would later
ask for my papers
he worked
for the military
gorillas
17
A midnight march
to the jail house
holding hands
to keep
the police
from breaking
in
Cecilia’s
Buenos Aires
attic
bedroom
16
Reading Portnoy’s Complaint
on a bench
in front of Tivoli Gardens
biking and riding my hardest
to prove
American boys are
stronger
15
Taking her hand
on a walk
and hearing her say
“Oh, no”
She knew something
would be forfeited
forever
Also: my father’s sideburns.
14
Long, lonely walks
through
the steamy concrete
enclaves
of flat white
baking stone
tile roofs
and green
perfectly edged
bristling
St. Augustine
grass
sanctuary
13
Waiting for something
to happen
12
A new red ten speed
and the underground fort
clearing lake weeds
at Camp Immokalee
breaking a tooth
watching a Batman
in Glen Gordon’s
air conditioned
Florida room
11
Around the
Orange Park
greyhound
race track
parking lot
we flew
in the go cart
with the slip pulley
my father made:
to go fast
lean back.
10
A family of
wet tangled limbs
we were
dangling off
our father’s trunk
ready to dunk
plastered
pool head
mischievers
9
Cockroaches
hammerheads
and stinking
paper mills
8
My dog Pooh
7
Michigan summers
playing catch
across THREE backyards
and on those
Michigan lawns
the snow
piling up
high thick
and
pure
6
Lunch recess:
walking home
to watch
“Concentration”
at noon on TV
adjusting
the rabbit ears
and
eating soup
with my mother
5
Kindergarten:
snowsuits and snaps
blocks and naps
a special friend
4
Grandpa’s study
Grandma’s kitchen
Grandpa’s pipe
Grandma’s eggnog
3
Making
clashing cymbal
monkey walk
the plank
2
Rolling the toilet paper
out the window
of our high rise
Seattle apartment:
it didn’t reach the ground
before the cardboard
like a bird
flew away
1
Banging pots
and pans
and watching
my mother’s face
0
Ding.
Nothing.
I am unborn.
JK Miller 