For Kathy This empty hand, like our home is emptiest when empty of your hand; these awkward elbows, their graceless worst without yours graceful near by me, these knees, would not could never kneel to thrust up thanks to God if you were not what thanks were for; of loins: the nearer yours to mine … Continue reading What Thanks Are For
Dawn, great joy! hope! awakening! though waking to sunless blizzard.
I was in the shadows hunkered in the goat suit Mom made me for Halloween. I felt like a spy or a Army scout. I didn’t move. Bo Peep came along the street, then went out of sight past the Woolworth parking lot. I waited quite a while, until I couldn’t hear her sheep-hook staff … Continue reading Seeing Her Safely Home
Against his grasshopper plague The Saint prayed for seagull angels This morning, only blackbirds.
This land rots, The lark the boy shot
We probably should not have switched up the routine. We probably should have gone down to the Alley and bowled a few games and drunk a few beers and ordered a pizza and eaten it off the shelf that ran along the wall at the back. But, no. Erline wanted to stay home and watch … Continue reading Darrel
“You put a hole in my heart like the grand canyon. . .. ,” Audie wrote. He was sick and tired of women. And Deli was the latest of the worst. All about her. Like saving it for a rainy day was life. Hell, life was gather roses while they bloom. Not this faux virgin … Continue reading A Girl to Heal a Fissured Heart
Brother Thoms’ Father’s Day Sunday sermon, which was supposed to be on the subject, “Supporting Father and Husband in their Priesthood Responsibilities,” wandered onto his hobby horse—women and the apocalypse. It was pretty vibrant and apocalyptic, and as usual, he rode it hard. A great amount of detail was put into length of skirts, wearing … Continue reading A Sermon on a Sermon
Jeffery carried a guitar slung on his back. He did not know how to play it, not really. Although, he could strum enough to accompany himself singing “Red River Valley.” It might be noted that saying Jeffery sang “Red River Valley” is somewhat of an exaggeration. He played the four or five chords he knew … Continue reading The Axeman at the Cowboy Poetry Open Mic
Canute stood on the shore and drew a line in the sand The tide rolled in and ole Canute could not stand and stay dry, so he stepped away and said "O pride of men will make men dead." Old DjT took his magic marker and drew (o, so proud) hurricane lines a lot darker … Continue reading Dorian goes This Way