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Searching for Father—A Tale of Repentance, Redemption and Resurrection
A LITTLE BOY'S QUESTION: It was a happy childhood in my Gran's home, in Bristol, England. I was a well-loved only child by my mother and I felt I was the “apple of my grandmother's eye”. Happy and content though I was, there was the inevitable question that one day…
Sleeping Beauty — Au Courant
Prologue Sleeping Beauty's a tale of a princess of yore, it's a classic love story we've all heard before. The Frenchman Perrualt was the first to compose, Brothers Grimm wrote a version they called “Briar Rose”. Tchaikovsky adapted it into Ballet, and Walt Disney's version is well known today. To…
The Golden Fox
poem not available online at this time
The Cravin
with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe Once upon a midnight boring, while her husband lay there snoring, Quite fatigued from rugged work-a-day, as many husbands are; While he lay there nice and cozy, chubby cheeks all warm and rosy, In the middle of his doze, he was awakened by her…
Brother and I
We walked across the fences bisecting home from home, On foot by foot across the wobbly wooden ones Or smooth concrete—we dreaded those, Embedded with the shards of broken bottle glass. (Where I grew up it was essential To keep out the thieves and little boys Who crept and darted…
The Path to a Village
A path passed before never taken never even seen now beckons A path once a road some bits of pavement remain to remind, that is all Soil has encroached foliage has narrowed it decades have upheaved it potholes and pebbles render walking unsteady Lupines line this path, purple sentries saluting…
An Overcast Morning on Mulberry Street
I take my coffee out to the front porch and settle into my green painted rocker. Doesn’t match the rest of my porch furniture, but I can’t get rid of it because sinking into this chair on a cool morning with a book and an oversized cup of coffee on…
Time Pieces Restored
Buzzed in to her bleached blonde (teased too) domain, I hear no ticks, no tocks, no bells, no hums. It's close, no room to move beyond the case. She's caged behind the glass, approaching me. We speak above rows of old stopped watches. I pass my slip through the cup…
juror number twelve
juror number twelve? there he is: squinty eyes, maybe thirty or so, trim, fit, hair combed neatly, parted just right mister congeniality with a real estate license, he’s a trifle flirty but he seems proud of his pretty wife and two kids—plus one in the oven—the family ensconced in a…
Friends
It was the coming home from school Never knowing what to expect That binds us. The blasted hope When everyone was Nicey-nicey That somehow It would stay That way And always feeling disappointed —If not exactly surprised— When it didn’t. Unlatching the front door, Wide-eyed girls in ponytails, Plaid uniforms…
Playstation Universe
1. The Juggler The boy was mothered by the soft spin of cloud over the white tumble of rolling waves, his eyes at home to dolphins, to flying fish, to autumn leaves, crows and starlings flung to the sky like a deck of cards, fluttering with wild cries, carried merciless…
Gifted
My little sister likes to read Harry Potter books. Will spend an entire afternoon doing nothing but something she’s not supposed to be able to do. Don’t be fooled, though, by the fluttering pages in her palms, she’s channeling Da Vinci: inverting words like a fresh bruise turned tangerine orange.…
Vibrations
Like the big mug in the Window of Gene’s Tavern, The sky is neon blue. The sign flashes on and off and Buzzes like a Thousand sleepy bees. I close my eyes. The sky buzzes, too. Zzzzzzzzzzzz… It is softer than the sound of the blue mug, But I feel…
Camp Four Jeffrey, Inyo County, CA
I. On the way east, Hwy 108 where logging trucks once roared, gears shifting down, solid coffin loads of seemingly rolled cigars, strapless dresses displayed in open-air street bazaars. The silent theatre of moonlight was there, remembering, and disrobing into night. By day, this mountain road has us police human…
Almost Light
The overgrown rail track is dry and withered, the trapped dust chokes and the sleepers have restless days. Khaki weed a foot high grows between the rail tracks and Never-Let-You Go branches tack onto old trees. He sees her from his window overlooking the disused track and wonders what she…
From Tending Sheep to Confusion on the Amtrak 10:50
in memory of Louis Korologos i. The Father I remember why love starts with a story. In the long amber days of 1958, I was ten. The story was part of our family skin, stretched across our communal body, protecting all who were inside from incursion. Your great-grandfather died at…
A Wake in the House
Traveling the world of my Grandpapa’s stone house through the hallways and twilight rooms, from the brightly-lit kitchen where the men, sitting at the table or standing around the stove with work shirt sleeves rolled up, drank Grandpapa’s red wine and played brisc at the table, getting so tipsy they…
For Antoine
After Kenneth Koch I love you as a widow loves the memory of pancakes on Tuesday morning with her fourth and best husband, who brought her the blackberries she dropped into the pancakes frying on the stove. Love is never having to worry your beloved will hate your pancakes. Who…
Pizza Is a Vegetable, I Say
Something is creeping around the garden, watch out! A new sort of vegetable growing from a sprout. Flat and bubbly, all cheesy and round, A vegetable called “Pizza” coming right out of the ground! Seed of tomato (puree), milk? of one cow, Grease from somewhere, I don’t know how, Powdered…
The Ballad of Spurgeon’s Cottage
When Charles Spurgeon was sixteen, in eighteen fifty one, his mentor Mr. Vinter tempted him to Teversham. A young man would be preaching there who wasn't used to speeches, and company might help preserve his dry unsoiled breeches. As Charles and his colleague walked along Newmarket Road, he found to…
Stolen Kiss
One day I stole a kiss from you and put it in my pocket I gently took it home with me, Gazed thereon adoringly, Then to keep it near my heart, I placed it in a locket. The next day there were “Wanted” signs on every post and board. “Please…
The Valiant Little Tailor; or, Seven at One Blow
I'm thinking of a certain land; And in it, on a summer morn, A tailor who is deft of hand But squat of frame, and squat of form Is sitting, quiet, and forlorn; The sun shines on his table glowing. He sits here, busy, sad, and sewing. This little tailor's…
The New Yorker Comes A-Calling
Dear Ms. K, We heard you were thinking of submitting to The New Yorker. Wonderful! We wait with bated breath for your Poem. That twisted little vignette that slices through our thick veneers and makes us face our cowering inconsequence. So, come on, just submit it. How about, you could…
The Charge of the Light Weights
1 Half a pint, half a pint, Half a pint downward, All in the valley of pubs Walked the six Light Weights. “Forward the uni club! Charge for the bar!” he said. Into the valley of pubs Walked the six Light Weights. 2 “Forward the uni club!” On to another…
Ode to a Turkey
(with apologies to John Keats) 1 My head aches, and a gnawing hunger stings My gut, as though I hadn’t eaten lunch, But been compelled to witness feasting kings Who gorged themselves on turkey legs and punch: ‘Tis not because of nature-given bliss, But only due to joy to wander…
Luke Skywalker’s Da Punk
Luke Skywalker's da punk who used to fly a T-16 skyhopper and bullseye onetwothreefourfive wompratsjustlikethat Ani he was a rebel man and what I want to know is how do you like your Jedi boy Mister Darth
The Twelve Months of Puberty
In the first month of puberty My body cursed on me: A budding bosom in a small tee. In the second month of puberty My body cursed on me: Two pubic hairs and A budding bosom in a small tee. In the third month of puberty My body cursed on…
My Bus Will Go On
(Based on “My heart will go on” by Celine Dion, and inspired by my high-school heartache—missing the school bus every morning.) Every morning at nine from my window, I see you, I hear you, That is how I know you’ll, Go on. Far across the distance, and spaces, Between us,…
New Vile Cuisine
You hear about cuisine that is très haute, but rarely of exotic, striking fare, still less of chefs who actively promote such dishes which they fashion with a flair. To start with, some prefer potage zygote, or aphrodisiacal paw of bear. Read on for offbeat Cordon Blur cuisine to tempt…
Whimsy for Willy
His penis is so beautiful I just want to knit it a hat. —Rafi Gardet A bit of haberdashery: I shall top your red-haired stranger with a Stetson, Mr. Winky in a kiss-me-quick porkpie. Knit one, purl two: your shlong in a kippah, your bobby in a tam, Mr. Happy…
Emily Dickinson Pulls an All Nighter
Some write Essays - days ahead - I - write them - cloaked - in Fear! With a “Bull of Red” - become my Muse, The Harshest Judge, my mirror - Some finish papers - quietly - I rail - in unknown Tongues - The clock - decrees my Destiny…
Someone Who’ll Chew
I heard that you’re paleo now That you gave up grains and you’re off the cow It seems that you’re trimmer too ‘Spose the thrill of seeing your feet is something new Hey mate, how can you deny pie? Not like you to pass up Chocolate Mousse Delight I’m having…
Babysitting Blues
I’ve baby-sat children before Between the ages of ten and four. Kids this age can speak and think, And know how to eat and drink. To these kids I know what to say I know fun games to make them play. And most of all I keep them quiet And…
Talking to the Dead on Television
“I’m getting a George here” he says to the adoring throng “He may be alive, or he may be dead but I don’t really know.” I expect an apparition or at least the faint strains of celestial music, but am greeted instead by comatose nods and one stifled sob from…
A Cautionary Tale
The clock screamed “You’re late!” I sprang from my bed. I jumped in the shower and this is what I said, “I must get to work, I just don’t have time to scrub this old shower of its soap crust and slime.” This was the habit, my modus operandi, so…
Acceptance Speech
To the cast and crew of Shootout at Red Rock Ranch who, on instruction from the offshore production team, herded three hundred panic-stricken black-tailed antelope through the makeshift movie ranch saloon just prior to the filming of the climactic barroom scene, unwittingly setting off the poor creatures’ fight or flight…
24 Hours - A Mother’s Collection of Haikus
1 PM Tasteless chicken cubes. Yellow, thin, salty liquid. “Where is letter P?” 2 PM Dozing with Teddy, Nana’s quilt tucked under chin. Pray dog does not bark. 3 PM Try a hand at crafts; Up to elbows in Play-Doh. Not in baby’s nose! 4 PM Sweet dog needs relief.…
I Hate to Ask
I hate to ask, but would you click This blinking rainbow fetching stick? For every click, a dollar goes To stray dogs in the Poconos. Now take a sec, if you don’t mind, To “kiss” my child at BabyFind. The baby with the highest tally Wins a trip to Simi…
The Agamemnon Rag
Atlas, you’re Homer. I am so glad you’re Hera. Thera so many things to tell you. I went on that minotaur of the museum. The new display centaurs on how you can contract Sisyphus if you don’t use a Trojan on your Dictys. It was all Greek to me, see.…
Je M’Appelle Pam. Non. Merci.
(With apologies to John Keats) Oh, what can ail thee, English girl? In what pain d'you languish? And why d'you wander Dover docks Alone and in such anguish? I see no lily on thy brow, But it would be quite horrid To have a flower sprouting From the middle of…
Rumpelstiltskin
Once upon a time, a miller told the King that his daughter spun straw into gold. The miller sold the daughter to the King to pay the daughter’s cellphone bill and laughed at the King’s stupidity. The miller will not be referenced again in this poem. The King locked his…
Medicinal Onanism
On the very rare occasion that my affable persuasion is replaced by something less than copacetic, you’ll be surprised to see my smile is disingenuine and vile and there’s a dark and twisted change to my aesthetic No longer sociable but rude with countenance reflecting mood I metamorphasise, personifying Id…
Piggly Wiggly Goes to the Funeral Home
We ride the Pullman car in silence from New Orleans to my Daddy’s home in Alabama. We are in front, with Daddy in the box car. Mother’s blue serge pants and sweater pick up lint; she pecks at fluff with her fingers in a capsule of silence. The main street…
Shoat Changed
While fixing the fence by the road ‘long my field, Came a luxury car and a lady “well-heeled”. She stopped to inquire about my fat pet, Who lay near to the road and was taking a rest. Most farmers have Collies or Shepherds or mutts, Who round up the the…
Shoppin’ Spree
Cash burnin’ a hole in my pocket Gotta buy me a new pair o’ pants Flameproof this time And while I’m at it Gonna buy me some spiffy new knee joints, self-lubricatin’ A pair o’ 20-20 eyeballs Permaplucked brows, preshaved legs A belly so flat it’ll double as a ironin’…
The Emperor’s New Jump Rope
On family movie night we watched “Jump In”, a Disney Channel Original (2007) featuring teen heartthrob Corbin Bleu. We cheered during the double-dutch competition scenes. “Wow,” my kids said as the credits ran. “We want to try that.” “You bet,” I told them. “Just as soon as we get a…
Bladed Lady
I wanted to kill Jack Opdyke. I never told anyone. It wasn't personal, and I was just a college kid of nineteen at the time. Jack was a retired engineer of some indiscernible age. Fifty and seventy seemed equal to me, incalculable measures of years beyond mine. The way he…
Go Agro
It was the night of our first roller derby bout and I wanted to puke. But bent over a toilet was no place for a team captain, and so instead I went over last minute strategy with my team, the Iron Maidens, while the Skate-a-Rama slowly filled with East Texans,…
Ticket to an Execution
Over two hundred were gathered in the smoky, noisy Knights of Columbus hall although the bouts didn't start for another half hour. The hall was enormous, designed with enough room for weddings, dances—even sporting events—but somewhere in the planning no one thought to address acoustics. The sounds of wooden chairs…
The Beautiful Game
I was born Juan Jose Guzman and on my fourteenth birthday, I became Brian Jorge Osario. In our Latino community, paperwork was passed around and shared for all sorts of reasons. Brian was my twelve-year old cousin. I wanted to play travel soccer, move on to an academy program, and…
