ALL THOSE ANGELS

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Always felt loosely tethered
well you can kick that up
a notch now
a shadow of one's former
self that was no more than a
shadow to begin with 
giving way
day 
by
day
to an emerging grey sky

The why??? of it
 gets caught in your throat
as you laugh and shake your head
at the sudden realization
 that all those angels
and that luck of the Irish
rolling your way 
were just a thing in your head
and things being preordained
seems the only logical conclusion
and talismans are just pretty stones
that dangle at the end of a chain
which seems like a 
totally appropriate metaphor

TIMOTEO'S TALES OF A MISSPENT YOUTH

d'Verse Poets Pub

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.