Posts for June 10, 2020 (page 6)

Whispers seep upward
through caked gallows
soil. 

You’ve silenced thee. Spat on thee.
Beaten thee. Hanged thee.  

Shall the onlookers cease gawking long enough to see? 

Will their sense of comfort and correctness belay their humanity? 

Like the pinnacle of a waxing moon the breath of the persecuted hangs in the air— 

Let the color of our blood redden your teeth stained. Let our flayed flesh forever fill your mouths. And may you drown in the drink of the memories of flopped tongues and soiled thighs. 

For the time is upon you to reel.  

For the time is upon us to ruin. 

For its time demands ceremony—  

Not on high but on the level of all human kind.  

Now the souls of Golgotha,
those captured in skullduggery,
and lowered in mastery.  

They—
They lack the ability
to lie in liberty,
while the noose of servitude
Breathes life.   

So burn your crosses
And unleash your dogs.
Go ahead and arm your men
with propaganda and lead.  

Just remember what your bible says—He who strays from the path of understanding
keeps company with the dead.

Belle Epoque hatmakers decimated populations
of hummingbirds, herons, birds-of-paradise,
sometimes mounting them whole and stuffed,
pinned to felt and velvet–little treasures. 

Barons logged the West Virginia mountains
to the point where someone compared the land
to the surface of the moon. Almost half the forests
burnt. You can find railroad ties in most woods.

These are just two stories about one point in time,
and it’s easier, in hindsight, knowing all we know
with supercomputing (made with materials mined
from the Earth, same ones in our smartphones).

It’s easier to keep the machine going even though
we can’t see ahead, easier than to scrap the damn thing. 

My Enneagram is the 4,
the individualist,
the one for whom nothing is ever
settled, appreciated, mindfully done.

I scale electric fences of 
other yards rather than
cultivate mine; it should already
be what I want.

The weeds are creeping in;  
burn it to the root,
blame the clearly sick
or misplanted seeds. 

Speed   Days pass            
                 like speeding jets.
Mornings come quickly
even when sleep evades your body.  

You move from this to that            
                 planning            
                 rearranging
the order you intended.  

You recall people            
                  and things
that shaped you.
But
there is no time to dwell on memories.
You have places to be
commitments you promised            
                    to fulfill.  

At days end
you look back and
question            
                      where it all went and wonder            
                      will there be more time
tomorrow.  
Tony Sexton

The silence is deafening

gone is your music and blaring TV

No more pounding your thighs to the beat in sync with the car radio

Acrid coffee brewing gone

Car puttering in the driveway gone

Snoring on the sofa as the TV drones

Opening those too tight jars for me

Slicing and dicing as sous chef to my cheffing

Shuffling gait as you swagger by my side cloaking my shoulders

Hearing your smoky voice whisper ‘Babe’

Letting the microwave beep till I thought it would yell ‘I’m done’

Doing your goofy beaver dance as you sparkle

Trashing the living room as you marathon pack for treasured scuba trips

Turning off lights like crazy leaving me to trip in the dark

Which is what I am doing now without you.

When I was young,
The American people had three enemies,
Inflation, cholesterol and communism.
Sure, cancer was also an enemy,
But we could fix that with a checkup and a check.

I remember thinking,
Why can’t we turn those three enemies against each other, like
The Good, Bad and the Ugly?
There could be a standoff in a graveyard.
Of course, none of them were good, so it was more like rock, scissors and paper.

So, what happened?
Did these things disappear?
We don’t hear much talk about any of them these days.
What changed?
I’m not sure, but I think the answer has something to do with CarShield.

Aren’t you glad you waited for it?

mom stood
before the stove, cooking,
cigarette in hand,
clouds of smoke circling her head.

tobacco seasoned the pork chops.
smoke seeped into the mashed potatoes.
my little sister and I long ago noticed
even the dinner plates smelled like cigarettes.

smoke seeped into
my dresses, my hair, my toys. 
my skin smelled
like KOOL SUPER LIGHTS.

My yellowed baby teeth gave way
to yellowed permanent teeth.

dad went straight to his downstairs den 
when he arrived home from teaching.
we knew he was there because of
the smoke, rising up the stairs.

some kids at school said they didn’t
want to smell like cigarettes.

tobacco smoke, though, always 
wanted to be near me, pressing me
like an insistent ghost, 
yearning to meld with my
already
smoke-filled soul.

Shame has settled into my core.

Just like a shiny apple with a rotten center,
I am certain no one will want me after the first bite.

if you just walked through security
and left behind a fishing rod
please return to claim it

she died 
the first time
when they said
this couldn’t be beaten.
she died the next time
when she decided 
to stop the treatments.
she died again
when she 
came home
from the hospital.
she died again
when she
needed hospice.
she died again
when she
could no longer
stand on her own.
again when she 
cried in pain.
again when she
needed help
and medication
to use the bathroom.
again when we
had to help her eat.
again when they
started
calling everyone
to say their goodbyes.
again every time
someone came
to do just that.
again when she
slipped into
unconsciousness
and never
woke up again.

then she died
when she stopped breathing
and her heart stopped beating.

and again when the doctor
pronounced her dead.
and again when they 
took her body.
and again when they
had the funeral.
and again
when they took her
to the cemetery.
and again when they
lowered her into the ground.
and again when they
pulled the dirt
on top of her,
tucking her in forever.
and again when we
had to turn off her phone.
and again when we
had our first family dinner
without her.
and again on christmas-
when there was such a hollow space
where she used to be.
and again
every time
i think about her.