Categories
local color love poetry mourning muse

will you still love me tomorrow

he loved me completely

he had the sweetest, big dumb bear grin

honey dripping even

when he looked at me

he smiled the length of the eastern seaboard

crooked loving sunshine in smiles over 5 o’clock stubble

whilst buying me tiny lobsters made of chocolate

took 1,001 pictures of me drinking coffee, eating lemon Italian ice

marveling at hermit crabs wearing ornately bejeweled shells

navigating social media oceans and long distance romances

from Neptune City to New York Harbor

we nearly sank together

we never truly said goodbye

we never stopped wanting

we never stopped feeling

but he never trusted himself

he never trusted me

though he had many names for me

baby gurl

angel kitten

alicia honey

sweetie poof,

and sometimes simply,

mine

he lied

and then abandoned me to coddle

his comfortable failures.

He once told me the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference.

How’s that working out, jack?

I knew he would never have the courage

to call me the one thing he should have called me:

his wife.

Categories
Americana analysis art atheism baseball writing cemeteries coffee death life literature love

black veil

we were

never married

yet somehow

i still became

his widow

Categories
Americana atheism behavior cinema food government and a lack thereof Hell humanity journalism literature local color non-fiction Ohio poetry religion rituals society Uncategorized

Dinner at the Sizzler

if purgatory

is a soup kitchen line

in a catholic church

hell

is serving up grub

on the corner of 8th & vine

southern baptists

pulling up

in their tax exempt jesus wagon

to serve homeless people

hot chili in july

heaven, happens

in Cincinnati

when pigs fly

Categories
Uncategorized

the devil you know

there you are
right on cue
as if you personally orchestrated
my having been born
in September
the devil you know
swelling and morphing
through my dreams
your face changing
wearing various masks
such grand theatre
i weep
destroy my sheets
crying out in the night
reddest blood flowing
into marzipan rivers
oh my dear
how beautifully we suffer
this tether
my soul was lost
in an apple orchard
faded to ether

Categories
poetry

for we are many

my childhood demons

far outnumber my remaining years

i could waste a lifetime

mitigating them

i shan’t

i’ll do a few shots of holy water instead

these motherfuckers

don’t get

free rent in my head

Categories
Americana poetry

judgment and peppermints

Winter has been left

at the altar

by Spring

in a Kentucky church

full of faded wood panels

battered hymnals

pews creaking with

suspicious Baptists aghast

carrying tissues

judgment and peppermints

in pocketbooks

bathed in beams

of stained glass light

containing confederate

dust particles descending

certain of

gossiping daffodils

and death

 

 

 

 

 

Categories
Lent poetry religion

judas

for a friend in need

on forgiveness sunday

.

excuse the deeds

but never forget

a devil hanging crooked paintings

in the details

.

serving a gathering

at the supper table

cyanide bread

&

antifreeze

dripped quietly

into the wine vessel

 

Categories
art behavior ecology literature love museums nature poetry punk religious studies writing

Have you ever stopped to think?

Perhaps God

is a temperamental visual artist,

who is perpetually

dissatisfied with his earthly work,

so he just keeps adding more

bloody paint,

shards of garbage,

and odd designs

to trash the damned thing?

Categories
atheism girl stuff poetry religion science theism

paper dolls

Critic: “Your poetry has taken on religious overtones as of late…”

Me: “Yes, as have I.”

Critic: “Why?”

Me: “I suppose it is a condition arisen from having played paper dolls with death my entire life…”

Categories
art biology happiness history literature nature politics punk religion science Uncategorized

amongst tender blossoms

Gregor Mendel

Gregor Mendel

was a Moravian scientist

and Augustinian friar,

who in the mid 1850’s,

became the father

of genetics

and heredity,

through his experiments

with plants bearing peas.

My playful mind envisions him

amongst tender blossoms

applying color and size,

dominance and hybridization,

to the Punnett square

within his thoughts.

Given over to whimsy,

I concoct a notion

of the genius

preparing for Easter feast,

crossbreeding

hummingbirds

with marshmallows

to provide God,

Cherubim,

and Seraphim

little angel shaped Peeps.