tattoos, beards, skin so white
you’d think they live in a crypt
skinny or broad, all muscled with
hate
flexing outward to warn off
the world
a brotherhood bricked
with imagination
every sentence spoken a measuring
rod because even Hitler had some
Jewish blood
and Martin Luther
never could get clean
the rift in you now healing,
play
like babes with me.
there’s nothing to keep us
from skirting ‘round the other.
do you hear me little star?
—that scar as it needs to be?
you can tell time with it.
sit with it and see.
do you see? do you like it?
surely you know it is your growing.
do you like me this way too?
i do like you
just this way friend,
i do.
loving different than liking.
when we say i love you all day long,
love hardly means a thing.
a-sometimes feel—a-spinning
round like a pulsar,
with no lodestar to guide.
by the loving and liking of you, and—
by that growth deep in the worst you hide,
i anchor in the sky.
i am not leaving.
i am not leaving, and—
i cannot say more, but only—
it is much more inviting.
it is a beautiful, honest ring.
i’ve long tried to say i love you—
i like you
oh what it speaks,
what it does not say.
Face it, Tiger… you just hit the Jackpot!
The Amazing Spider-Man #42
a little known gem
in the Multiverse
more rare than kryptonite
is that Mary Jane
and the Man of Steele
were once a fiery item
it was his pre-newspaper days
when he was writing novels
in rented basements
countless nights in front of a woodstove burning words
typewriter churning chords in harmony with Mark Knopfler’s guitar
until he met MJ in a multi-genre workshop her brilliant hair shining
but not disguising her brain while he sat across from her wanting to put her in a story
and she was a poet of course
and her poems were songs
and the way she sang them moved him
Mary Jane who never met a stranger
and Superman going by the pen name Dusty Steele
proving as private as his fortress of solitude
but the downstairs fire flickered as a pale pyre
in the presence of their combustion
and the mountain cold could not chill them
MJ’s eyes set him aflame but one day she’d see through the disguise interpreting lies
though he thought the truth this time wasn’t that simple and when they broke up
he did have to admit that he knew it was done when she saw a sexy picture text preview
from April O’Neil whom he was having what he convinced himself was a harmless flirtation
later Mary Jane would say
some other redheaded chick in reference
but she’d already known she couldn’t keep him
not because he was so easy on the eyes
but because when she moved in with him
he refused to merge any of their things even after years
and she called it only child syndrome to shrug it off
but knew then he’d never let her be half of a whole
so in this story Mary Jane is unable to laugh
everyone knows there’s a lot of lines about love and loss and the lilts of laughter in between
Superman knows more than most saving so many souls from being written off early
and when he’s considering abrupt ends while flying Denver skies or sailing to Philadephia it’s in early morning fog the Man of Steele wishes he were the tiger to Mary Jane’s jackpot
Pine Mountain Cemetery XXVIII
Jeff
Been awhile since they carried another one
Up this hill. Cemetery closer to town is easier,
That is if a burying could ever be that.
That one there hurt the whole damn town.
His father dug our wells, such a good man
Bringing sweet water and leaving the sulphur.
His heart is so broke, we fear he’ll never put a
Hand back on that old rickety rig, water or no.
Mother tho lets the Indian blood hold her steady.
Picnic at the mountain lake, campfire, got hot.
He walked to water’s edge to cool off, tempted
First a foot and then a dive into the so deep black.
Young, strong, not drunk, happy and in love, he
Just did not come back up, who knows why? Life
Takes a swipe, blasts away at what looks normal.
A part of his girl grieves today and it’s been years,
Time enough to let it go, but she can’t and won’t.
Loving first is like that. Her kids wouldn’t understand.
He loved life, the fireworks of all those promises ahead.
Laying down our old tears a piece of us, too, but not
The young, the laughter, the hope, how can that be dead?
The answers are not whispered on this lonely hill.
Gran would say you gotta strap it on and take a step
No matter how deep the hurt and long the chill.
That lake has got some ‘splaining to do to take a
Boy who found such joy while digging down deep
To find another vein of water with his dad .
Fading into the sunset,
Taking bets your regrets
Will be the things you’ll reminisce
On death’s bed door
♡Anastasia Z. Cunningham
06-28-2020
The U.S. Government
whispered:
Give us your scientists and engineers.
Martyr Adolf.
Surrender.
And then we’ll show you how to reign
Supreme—
Sans swastikas.
Don’t compromise yourself
You’re not loosing Your battles
Just because you haven’t seen your victories arise
Things take time
And time sometimes seems to drip like your first apartments leaky faucet
A slow continuous thud that you have yet to fix, or really even notice
But soon it will be gushing
And your goals will no longer be within arms leangth
But at your fingertips
And you’ll wonder why you ever questioned yourself to begin with
I am not an army of one-
You don’t get that lucky.
I’m what they call overkill,
And you’ve got a hell of a bill.
I could stand all alone,
But punk, you are unlucky.
From here on out it’s all uphill-
I love it when you call me shrill.
I’ll chew you up like acetone-
Know the thing about Kentucky?
We’re pure undistilled and iron will
And motherfucker I’ll die on this hill.
