The spirit proceeding
from this father and son
is kindly, too,
for I’ve promised him
KFC
after the Mass.
Tag Archives: poetry
We’re better off signing off
with a promise of patience
than sticking the afflicted
with a fix they can’t use.
Dosey doe
When you hook elbows
and turn,
you’re going in the same direction together,
even if you don’t see
eye to eye.
I saw a woman who could’ve been
A girl with bobbed hair once
who spent her summers
on the coast of Maine
and went back to Choate
with a tan and hard muscles.
She had that nose and chin
she’d never lose,
and she’d send you
chasing the ball
all over the court
until you tasted the salt
of your own sweat
and wished you were
a better player.
A certain satisfaction in the thought of dying
That some things would finally be done.
The dishes, for one.
He who under other circumstances knew
For once didn’t
and I saw the
panic
in his eyes –
a slower drainage than
you would expect –
the possibilities
receding like
tubwater
well before
the gurgle.
Politics of the goose and gander
For all the volume
it’s clear:
the stakes are low.
The flaw in the cat’s climbing –
that confounding fear of descent –
is a lovely flaw,
a flaw for the sake of the chick.
I have tried to prop it open
I have tried to get it to where
if you came,
you’d see.
1, 2, 3
This set of three poems was prompted by the untimely death of a young mother. May she rest in peace and may her family know the consolation of a loving (the living) God.
1. SHE IS SCHOOLED IN THE HARDER MYSTERIES-
in the grammar of disappointment
and math of endless days.
2. WHAT IS SPENT
to prevent
the one final flare-out?
3. SUICIDE FLOWERS
Wouldn’t they make you sick,
your mother gone
and these instead,
pert with the pollen of dropsy?
Utrecht Journal 