Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving.

Again.

They’re coming faster.

I can no longer keep up.

Instead, I suck down mock tails in the places where only the tourists and the down trodden go.

The Orphans.

I look across the water

At an island I’ll never live on

And think of those I lost, alienated,

ran away, or buried in my emotional basement.

I know they are there.

So I chase gnats away from my ginger beer and repeat every holiday, and all birthdays I can remember…

uɐɥdɹolɐuoᴉʇoɯǝ@

Consolation Prizes

The warmth of the spring sun on the face allow veins to show through eyelids.

A football helmet allows flight from

The safety of a Sears and Roebuck jungle gym.

A paratroopers swing

grass-ward for war and popsicles.

A tickle of grass on the neck

and watching clouds

prompts wonder.

Was it June bug or July fly?

A fleeting thought of where

Dad was that moment,

when he would be home,

and had he been gone

long enough to warrant

a really cool present on his return?

Something cool.

Not some stupid T-shirt

from some fake golf tournament designed as a cover for high stakes poker, and call girls serving…

Drinks.

The warmth of the spring sun on the face allow veins to show through eyelids.

Bartender, get me another.

uɐɥdɹolɐuoᴉʇoɯǝ@

Deafness

I must have missed what you said,

But it is spilling from my hands.

Pulsing from my veins,

Spreading like fire – seeking air.

Pulling me in

I’m more alive.

I give you my sins.

I’ve chosen you, you’ve chosen me.

We are chosen.

But keep that secret with the rest.

If I save us, we fall down

If I save you, I fall.

You would let me fall.

There won’t be any Salvation.

I leave words now.

You never listen.

Hold me under.

Throw me from a cliff.

My thunder trails off

To a scream.

uɐɥdɹolɐuoᴉʇoɯǝ@

Hurricane

There was a Hurricane around the corner.

Popular especially at sundown.

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In a Hemingway ambiance,

Lying kept him alive.

Telling the truth kept him fed.

The right mix kept drunk.

He might even get lucky.

<>

There was a Hurricane around the corner.

Storms inside,

Outside.

In the distance.

<>

Tick Toc

A man.

All that “potential”.

Withers in the tempest of it all.

uɐɥdɹolɐuoᴉʇoɯǝ@