Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
I like it when a poem mentions a real place
like Omaha or Charleston as that immediately
tells me there won't be any faeries or elves in it
and so it's safe to continue and I like it when
a poem mentions a real thing like let's say a lonely
bus stop and I like it when a poem mentions real
people like old lovers or new lovers and some
way that all these things come together like at a bus
stop in Omaha where a woman stands waiting for
what could be an old lover on a bus that doesn't
come and not how it makes the woman feel because
we don't exactly know but how it makes the poet
feel as he observes her from the gas station
across the way and there's a chill in the evening air
and after a while he walks on over to inquire as
to whether he can be of some assistance
she is a dark haired woman who reminds him
of an old lover and she says where you headed
mister and he says Charleston and she smiles
and says oh that would be pretty far out of
my way as I live about five miles down the road
and he wants to say something but there's this little
voice telling him she's heartbreak in faded jeans
and he says well have a good evening then m'am
and when he pulls out of the station never to return
again he glances in his mirror and sees that she has
stepped off the curb and is thumbing for a ride and
in a New York moment (a pregnant one at that) he says
fuck it and turns the car around and you will write your
own ending same as we all do in real life and that there's
the kind of poem I like now mister yes I surely do
Saturday, December 17, 2016
Sunday, December 11, 2016
RUN
My first baseball game
second grade I believe
recess out on the playground
they didn't use a baseball
it was a soccer sized ball
you whacked at it with the bat
and then you ran
that's what I saw the other kids do
you ran
I didn't know one thing about baseball
I didn't know you were supposed to stop at the base when the ball was being thrown there
and someone called out SAFE!
or OUT!
Mom's Second Big Mistake
having shown me nothing 'bout anything
'cept how to be passive aggressive
so I just kept running
running home
because I didn't know
you know
and the kids thought I was dumb or something
or maybe had a screw loose
'cause next time up I did it again
and they were yelling STOP
but I kept on running
running home
and I didn't look back
And when it came time to bust out of
that little town
years down the line
I ran
and kept on running
running away from home
And I didn't look back
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Last Tango In Timbuktu
BRING A GRIN TO THE FACE OF THAT LOVER OF LITERATURE WITH A QUIRKY SENSE OF HUMOR ON YOUR XMAS SHOPPING LIST...
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