Appreciation

Of all things
he drank Pabst Blue Ribbon—

       from a can!

but it looked like he was drinking champagne

       the deliberate hoist
       the slight pause – a toast of thanks?
       the slow, methodical sip
       the part-smile

Oh, and the return

like a mother returning newborn to crib

Come-A-Long, Dear

I found a come-a-long
dusty, rusty in a basement corner

the previous owner’s

With some WD40
and coaxing
a useful, powerful tool again

It made me think
how nice it would be
if there were come-a-longs

for people

Jack's Ghost

I trippled down Adler
hoping to meet Jack’s ghost
but ended up sitting on the floor
upstairs in City Lights
reading the blues
when a sexy gone voice behind me
said who’s your favorite?
and without looking to see
my angel in waiting
I wrote “Kerouac” on a blank page
in my little black notebook
stuck my pen in the fold
and passed it behind me
without looking
I felt it taken out of my nervous hand
an eternity fell on my shoulders
before a giggle
a sweet silky titter of a laugh
too afraid I still didn’t look
Something touched my shoulder
I reached up, felt my notebook
under Jack’s name was written
“I was here”
I turned around
she was gone

Joseph Parks

Joseph Parks was born in Hell
a small-town hole with small-town smell
one rich man
many poor men
an old movie house
curfew at ten

Joseph tried to fit in
first here, then there
always unsettled, always aware
of some siren song calling
calling his name
a siren song calling him
again and again

Years of stagnation
then one day he left
only to return in a few years hence
with a wife and a child and a long swig of debt
He built a small house with a white picket fence

and with siren songs fading
once clear as a bell
he deepened the hole
and increased the smell

Joseph Parks was back in Hell

Balance

Her first reaction
was to say No, because

after all, this wasn't her
first time around

the block. But something
in the way he cocked
his head reminded her

of Sam Elliott, and
her mask fell off long
enough to let a small

ray of hope in. One
dinner, two movies, and three
orgasms (his) later she chose

home cooking, Netflix, and
a dependable vibrator over

the struggle to balance
becoming two
with staying one. In the end,

she decided balance
was over-rated.

47

He kissed her
through the steel steel bars
He said I love you
She answered Whatever

Outside 47 men
walked down the street sideways
in a fake parade

Inside 47 inmates
read letters from 47 luckless people
With not a real thing said

in the bunch. Upside 47 politicians
passed 47 bills
to protect their whimpering
constituents from

dangerous criminals. And Downside 47
hits of acid
made their way
toward terrifying the aftertaste left

in his mouth when she said Whatever

Top Words of 2009

According to the Global Language Monitor, these are the top words of 2009:

1. Twitter
2. Obama
3. H1N1
4. Stimulus
5. Vampire
6. 2.0
7. Deficit
8. Hadron
9. Healthcare
10. Transparency
11. Outrage
12. Bonus
13. Unemployed
14. Foreclosure
15. Cartel

Now, as long as you are at my blog, why not read some of my poetry and then visit my more developed blog, The Daily Beat.

Thanks.

Once in a Blue While Moon

Once in a blue while moon
an uphill climb becomes a downhill swingsong
(The sage says: “Surrender”)

Once every few so often days
a remembrance of thankfulness intrudes
(The falling leaves whisper: “Peace”)

Once is a never upon enough time
some late ember caresses the air
(The fire-starved ground sings: “Freedom”)

Once it’s twice over or removed
sad longings twist into pasta shells
(The watery grave gurgles: “Enough”)

Once I before do you die
to just simply get the words right
(The old refrigerator hums: “Patience”)

Blue Jays

Seeing a blue jay
I called home from work
“Do you see a blue jay at the feeder right now?”
Tentative response: “…Yes”
“I see one right now, too, so
       it can’t be the same one, right?”
Click.

At least now I know.

I Want To Know

Yesterdays too easily
stop tomorrows
        and too often
I’ve run out of peace signs
but the world keeps on

Blood drips out of the morning newspaper
into my coffee
until I stir away
the swirling depravities
I’ve grown accustomed to reading about

        Father locks toddlers in trunk while shopping
        Woman’s body washes up near Seawall
        Four family members bludgeoned to death near Ozarkville
        Thirteen soldiers killed by roadside bomb attack

And no one cares enough to protest
        or at least rail against the misery

Because what really has the American public’s attention
Is Kim Kardashian's fat ass

And I want to know:
How long does our species have left?


This poem contributed to
dVersePoets Open Link Night Week #12
Follow them on Twitter @dVersePoets.