Posts for June 19, 2022 (page 2)

I believe
there’s a thin line
between 
everything
that has been
will 
and might be

when I walked
barefoot in the woods
while she called me home
to a place I feared to go
because of the things
happening that I 
had to pretend 
weren’t happening because
people don’t love damaged

there was another me
in another place that 
could go back to that house
and it wouldn’t be 
just her

it’d be
my mother
and father
setting up the table
with a sunset behind them
that would spit the chest
pull the lungs 
right out of me
and hurl them into
the center of the thing

we would listen to Zeppelin
Heart and Poison
dance on the linoleum floor
share food and laugh
throw our heads back
howl into the summer night

but it didn’t turn out
that way

I was left
looking up at the sky
at every single 
blinking plane light
pretending my mother
had a change of heart

or that every rumble
coming from the gravel road
was my father
coming from whatever
kept him away from me
as long as it did
until the damage was done
in Ohio

none of them came
because I didn’t know
they thought
it wasn’t worth
coming back

I’ll tell you this
you’ll never have
to pretend
a single goddamned
second
as long as I live

The first thing to go is dryer sheets,
then paper towels. Inflation?
I’ll eat you for breakfast.
I’ll pull you out of a Dumpster
so fast your bread won’t have time
to go bad. What’s bad is when
there’s nothing but ketchup,
mustard and pickles.
But there’s always something
when you’ve learned how to live
in poverty. Stretch the chili
with mac. It works, it’s a fact.
Dandelions peak through the snow.
Daylilies have edible tubers.
I never kill a weed I could eat.
It’s not meat, but it will do.

Dew falls on my skin
as the sun sinks low,

a palate of color
across the sky

radiating out onto
the wildflowers

and grasses and me.
For one ethereal moment

I am painted right
into the earth.

i’ve learned
that the grief of you
can only be exhaled

Where will I reside
when I am called to glory?

With my father’s people?
I can hardly find that country church. 

With my mother’s kin?
It’s deep in a wood I’ve never seen. 

Or scatter my remains?
I could find a place, I suppose. 

Is my generation the first
to be so disconnected from place,
that success is measured 
by how far we moved away from home?

I think I will want to be visited by you,
so best to lay myself to rest
here. 

I’m not over it,

And I think I’ll always grieve it

I was never one to wear a dress

Or put a ton of makeup on,

Or heels I could barely walk in

But in this case, I didn’t get the choice

Prom was stolen from me,

Whether I wanted it or not

It’s the cheesy scene in every coming-of-age movie

The night where we are forever young

A cliche but a milestone

Something to remind us life doesn’t have to be so bad

Along with prom,

We never got to indulge in a senior breakfast,

Or enjoy senior skip day,

Play like kids at senior field day, and

We never got a formal graduation

I’ll admit I guess they tried their best

Giving us what they could,

But part of me thought

When the pandemic is over,

They’ll hold a real prom and real graduation

Just for us

They tell us for 12 years what we need to graduate,

And we worked hard,

Not even knowing what we wanted in life

We still showed up and did the damn thing,

Yet here I am 2 years later

Watching this years class

Walk across a stage with their friends and family watching every step

I see video after video of graduates throwing their cap,

Balloons on a mailbox

To mark a graduation party

I am grateful for what I got

But I can’t help but feel a little lost,

And a little pissed off,

There is no going back

And I feel it made us all grow up even quicker,

And I know I’m not the only one who feels this way

So here’s to the class of 2020

I found an argument on reddit–

Heat from fingers’ whelps

& blisters, magnified by sun rays,

magnified by body’s heat,

magnified by scratching in sleep.  

Almost two weeks. Leave already.

I salted up my chicken
And throwed it in a sack.
Shook it up in flour
Up down front and back.
Dipped one piece in the skillet
I heard the old hog hiss.
I knowed this was one dinner
You wouldn’t want to miss.

Filled her up and put the lid on top.
It’s the one thing that I know that grandma taught.

Before you know it I looked
It was a purty copper brown.
I put it on the table
And the family gathered round.
The little ones were cussin
And saying things that they should not.
By now they’re old enough
That I won’t be forgot.

A smiling face beneath a golden mop.
What kind of lessons will they learn, that their dumb ol uncle taught?

When I think about it much
A few tears run down my cheeks.
I’ve done my best to navigate
Life’s valleys and it’s peaks. 
I know they’ve seen the fire.
They’ve heard the thunder in my voice.
But they know I love em
She’s my girl and they’re my boys.

I’m trying hard to be a better man.
To love myself so they know that they can
Love them too.

Metallic ring
Of someone tilling new ground
With a garden hoe
Echoing off mountains
Between his ears

He never said enough

She was a little bird
He couldn’t 
Catch appearing and disappearing
In soft sway
Of wild herbs