In The Moonlight

—Anonymous Photos

—Poems by William S. Gainer, Grass Valley, CA

THE WATSONVILLE JOB, ’69 – ‘80

Worked for an outfit
over in Watsonville
years ago.
Three kids
and a house payment.
They gave us a turkey
and a ham,
Thanksgiving and Christmas—
eleven years on the job.

I'd give the tickets
to Kae St. Marie,
she'd go over
to the little grocery
in Pajaro,
CA
pick out
what was right
for us,
write the boss
a thank-you note
invite him over
he never showed.

We ate good—
all the way down to
the carcass boiling
for late-night soup ... 

TO THE STARS

Yes, the yard is small
but it is yours.
A sanctuary
of sorts
a place for the stars
to rest their wings
hide in shadows
and dance—
as the song goes—
in the moonlight.

DATE NIGHT

We had red meat
tonight.
Prime Rib
and the other
stuff—
all the other
stuff.
14 ounces
we ate about ten
each
and the other
stuff —
all the other
stuff.
Took the rest
home
dogs
and sandwiches.
Our bloodlust
complete.
 

THE COLOR OF PAINT

Painted the shed
a deep forestry brown
so in the dark
it disappears.

Tonight, it’s gone.

If this works
as planned
in the morning
it will be returned.

If not
we lost
another one.

WE TALKED ABOUT THINGS—
        IT DIDN’T HELP

My barber’s wife
is dying.
It was the saddest
haircut
ever.

_______________

MOLLY’S FUNERAL

I’ll sit in the car
wait for you.
Sip a little bourbon
take a little
nap.
We’ll drive home
slow
talk about
something else. 

HOW A KILLER EATS SPAGHETTI

I like my marinara
with bow tie pasta.
You don’t have to
fuck around
getting it on the fork
just stab it once
and it’s done.

_________________

WHERE THINGS BATTLE
FOR THEIR LIVES

My world lives purely
in my imagination.
Love, fear, hates
as in plural—more than one—
battle for their lives
there.

My days are their milk
my nights their cradles.
I don’t know
if my therapist believes
my stories ...

She wants to know
if I loved my mother.
As if
there is more
to tell.
I finally said yes.
She seemed happy.

YOU NEVER KNOW

The kid in line
looked shifty.
I didn’t trust him.

Asked me to sign
his book.
I figured he was—up to
something.

These days
things happen.
You never know.

No sense
taking a chance.
I forged
my name. 

HOW I PARK MY CAR

No room
for big cars
cigarette-smoking woman
or bourbon-sipping
old men—
the page has turned on us.

Some days
I talk to old men
who don’t breathe
gray-skinned women
who only
exhale ...
and anxiety-ridden children
who never learned
how to spit properly.
They’re all hated
by somebody.
Me too
I guess.

I park my car
anywhere I want
two spaces sometimes.
Go inside, order up a double
straight, on the rocks
sit at the window, sip
think about a different time
a different kind of noise
wonder how the world
got so goddamn quiet.

THE TASTE OF NEON

To walk away
pocket change
rattling
a simple
hangover
and the taste
of neon
forever
on your lips
is a good thing.
I guess.
Luck, if you will.
Then again
if it’s her
calling
it’s best to let luck
surrender early
and the taste
of the neon
pull you both
back
into the night.

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF
AN IGUANA

When they kill the sun
I’ll know it’s over.
Until then
I adapt ...

____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

“TRUTH, JUSTICE, AND THE AMERICAN WAY“
            the day Kavanaugh got the job, 9.7.2018

I've been in this fight
too many years—
all losing does
is tell me
I'm on the right side ...
Tonight,
I'll sit in the back,
alone,
tell myself to rise up.
The fight ain't over—
you're still in it ...
and I am ...

____________________

Welcome back to SnakePal Bill Gainer, who is a storyteller, humorist, award-winning poet, and maker of mysterious things. He earned his BA from St. Mary’s College and his MPA from USF. He is the publisher of the PEN Award-winning R. L. Crow Publications. Gainer is internationally published and known across the country for giving legendary, fun-filled performances. His new book is The Mysterious Book of Old Man Poems from Lummox Press; check it out at www.amazon.com/Mysterious-Book-Old-Man-Poems/dp/0998458058/. Then visit Bill at billgainer.com/.

Tonight at 6pm, Sac. Poetry Center will feature a book release by Lawrence Dinkins (NSAA): Warrior Poet. Then at 7pm, Speak Up: The Art of Storytelling and Poetry will present works on the theme of “He (She) Loves Me, He (She) Loves Me Not”. That’s at the Avid Reader on Broadway in Sac. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about these and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.

—Medusa (Celebrate Poetry!)

 Inside of every poet lies a wolf, howling at the moon…
—Anonymous Photo

  

Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.