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Friday, January 25, 2013

SILENCE BETWEEN THE SMILES






Slanted plane of window light.
Melted road tar.
Clouds in the shape of Madagascar.
Random stabs at a keyboard.

Oh
do come in please
and we shall schedule you for
summary execution...
unless, of course, you'd rather not--
in which case you are free to
have tea and crumpets
and be on your way--
we do so aim to please.

Life
from within its own murky maze
is a story best read between the lines.
The silence between the smiles
speaks of its halting uncertainty.

Mistress gazes at the wife's picture
and asks do you love her?
Her eyes blink on and off.
Do lies equal kindness?

A man stays with a woman
not out of a sense of loyalty
but out of a sense of continuity.
Change what intrigues him about you
(like your hair, maybe)
and he may not be out the door,
but he'll be slipping out the back window
meeting a short order cook
in short order.

Riding the curve on a ripple.
Legions of dark delights.
Your eyes are divine
like fine boxed wine.

In the autumn I will turn over a new leaf.

GADZOOKS--an ancient evil awakens!
I draw my sword...
m'lady demurs
and buys my false bravado.
They just want someone
to slay the dragon
or at least wave that thing around menacingly.  

Belief without evidence.

Yet some still say "Your Majesty"
to another human being and
manage it with a straight face.

Kilimanjaro--that's majesty.
An old lady sitting on the crapper
 in a funny hat
 she never takes off,
 well...




Tuesday, January 1, 2013

TIMOTEO'S TALES OF A MISSPENT YOUTH









CEDAR RAPIDS (south side)

Ebony bodies
in the black night,
swaying to the beat.

Just me and Bill...
two sets of blue eyes
in a sea of brown.
In the wrong place
at the wrong time.
We might as well wear signs
that say DYNAMITE.

Would you like to dance, white boys?
Well, you're too lovely to resist,
and Bill knows lots of these cats--
grew up around here, he did.
Nothing to worry about.

Holding her now--
but from the corner of my eye
I see the switchblade gleaming,
reflecting neon. Angry words
cut through the stolid air.
Are you talkin' to me?

The powder keg ignites.
The whole joint explodes.
Brothers fighting brothers,
some trying to get us, others shouting
"No man, leave 'em alone!"

A fist slams against my temple,
winning my attention. The agitated
dude with the blade is stalking Bill.
It's happening too fast to think.

Then, out of nowhere,
the hand of an ally--
or an angel--
grabs mine. I am pulled,
nearly dragged,
through the confusion.

I stumble into the starry night,
and hearing the sirens approach,
I am filled with a sense of dread
that Bill has gotten the worst of it.