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Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

antacid tablets

this could be a poem
about failure
in love
my career or lack thereof
first female presidential aspirations
gone awry

i was born too late
to be joan of arc
or marie curie

it could be about divorcing twice
and how that precludes a third try
the way i’m not my father
or my mother

a sonnet about autism
what having twin teenagers
who live
inside an alternate reality is like
and the sudden image
of sissy spacek in carrie
when your parenting method
need be applied

stretch marks
grand addictions

bourbon goes in your mouth so willingly,
have you noticed?

panties fall off so easily

those two may be interconnected

student loans
shotgun wedding consumerism
single parent economics

fried green tomatoes
leading to an existential crisis

a closet full of pricey heels
and clutch purses
wishing they were
hiking boots,
sturdy jeans,
and pocket knives

it could be about some piece of shit
who dicked me over

or someone i put the screws to
being thoughtless

it’s funny the damage one can do
without even trying

in southern families
the way
needing a bassinet
is more tragic
than needing a casket

but it’s not
it’s not about any of that

this poem is about gratitude
for all i’ve been spared and given

this poem is the thundering cry
of one human
sent crashing skyward into stars
for god to exist
if not for me
for my loved ones and friends

this poem is about living to write this

Categories
Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY

february 2cd

(cue booming hollow sports announcer voice)

super bowl SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY

ground hog day
on which
punxsutawney phil saw his fictitious shadow
in the epicenter
of manufactured battles
man vs. weather
man vs. processed cheese polymer
man vs. traumatic brain and spinal cord injury

my war
is that my personal health is at a tipping point
the choices i make now
will determine the length of my life
and my overall wellness

2014 must be the year i stop
abusing myself
with smoke
with drink
with bad jobs
with bad men

my sons are 18 now
i choose to see them live as flourishing men

i want to put my best face forward
for the coming apocalypse

this leaves me with only one drug

words

my sword dipped in ink

in the contest between good and evil
good wins

know why?
books
kisses from children
and puppies

but even they won’t stop the earth
from feeling the need to
cure itself of us

we are coming to our unpollinated end

so all you lesser demons can fuck off