I am a cold lamb in need of whiskey – in dire need.
Bohon, I never knew you.
Maybe I’ll meet you
Over on that golden shore.
There is a church in Daviess County (and one in Frankfort, too)
Where we sacrificed our Sunday mornings to stand stock-still singing Psalms.
I guess God listened.
I went to a yoga class today
It is different from doing yoga at home
because I can lose my balance
and not be embarrased in front of other people
except I wasn’t embarrased.
Doing yoga with other people is
kind of cool because everyone
is kind of in their own zone
breathing, balancing, moving their
own bodies in a controlled manner.
Yoga is very relaxing and I can tell
that my body is getting stronger
and my balance is improving
and my range of motion has greatly improved
but, the more I learn, the more there is to learn.
I would like to say I am going back soon,
but life happens and I get busy, but I
do want to go again. But until then,
I will do yoga at home, where I can fall time
and time again, and no one will know.
I.
The shades go down on a town
so wistful & blue, as to
encircle & encircle
upon new circle.
The horses’ bleats & neighs
echo upon deaf ears
like dew on cellophane.
II.
Quarter ‘til seven
& the sunlight spills
among crevices
of buildings, of leaves,
of the people / steady as sorghum.
Surely there aren’t two of me—
one living the life I refused—or did I
kill her, nearly 40 years ago?—the other
(that’s me) keeping record of the dreams
she’s interrupted, the times her laugh
has my traded lips with my own, and
the words—how many turgid thoughts?
—that must be leaking from her head
into mine. Truly she isn’t
turning off the light and, lying still,
pretending no one’s there to hear her
whispers to herself—which one?—
to read the blood smeared behind her face
in confession.
Where do you hail from
