MY GOOD OLD DAYS
Pounding shots of 151
Snorting crank and
Sprinkling it like sugar in my coffee,
I would come to
Points of no return.
Look! your folks and mine
Waving from a train station.
I'd watch them waving for an hour or two.
I'd do another line and head out into the fog.
Navy pea coat, smoking Marlboro's.
Out, into the middle of the old field
Miles from anyone.
I'd lay there under the moon and
Accuse her of crimes and treason.
Up for days straight,
Some deranged stranger in my mirror.
Blood all over the kitchen floor where I cut myself again,
"Accidentally". Three times in four days.
And those were my
Good old days.
LAY THOSE BRICKS
She told the class that a
Poet is to words what a
Brick layer is to bricks.
I don't know what else she said, I
It was a foggy day, and
I headed to the field adjacent to the campus,
Found a spot by a creek, and
Jotted random lines in my notebook.
From what I read these days, I know
Most stayed in her class and laid those bricks.
GOT TO BE WOLF LARSEN
I sit in the wheelhouse alone,
Check the compass and check weather reports.
But there's a stirring with the crew this night,
Building, grading, a discontent about our very low
Fish count. My hunch we'd find them farther North was
Dead wrong this year.
I yell back to the galley, "Another coffee, black, and
Make it hot this time." Then, alone in my
Cocoon, I stir in some cream and sugar and cool it with bottled water.
They've got to think I'm some kind of Wolf Larsen they're dealing with.
These angry crazed men, they must not smell my weakness and fear.
It's three days to port, cold and nasty.
Welcome, friend, to my world.
TWO of SEVEN FRAGMENTS of the SAGA of WHITE SMOCK and BUBBLEGUM GIRL
A man in a white smock stood to say that entrophy is the basic rule.
A bubblegum-chewing teen-aged girl stood to say that science is boring, dating cool.
Against the basic rule the living cells did form.
Her boyfriend's letterman's jacket kept her warm.
To reclaim his balance, White Smock proved his point with gleaming vials.
She bore a family and showered the world with smiles.
With sterile blade he dissected the sun.
Under the moonlight she surrendered to fun.
Once White Smock had proved to Bubblegum Girl that his
Rocket would fly straight and true
She no longer mocked him, stayed after class,
Cleaned his black board, sharpened his pencil too.
(Stay tuned for Part III)
"THE UNEXAMINED VAGINA...
is not worth having"
I cleverly quipped.
This did not open any thighs.
This tactic of mine is how I got
The scar on my forehead and
—Medusa, with thanks to David Wright for today’s fine poems, and to Katy Brown for her fine fotos!
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