Old media’s not a calendar.
You don’t flip through it and then dispose of it.
It doesn’t expire.
I love all of the ways they’re not timely.
Give me your dated references,
your old-person slang, your cringey fashion.
I want the cheesy tropes and the kinds of politics
that I have to google after the fact.
That stuff’s as close to a time machine
as we’re going to get.
One fateful day,
a cell split in two
and for all the days to come
life would follow suit
One birthday with
two different themes
One bedroom with
two-toned walls
Onlookers would never see
how different this cell would be
To those who never knew,
they would only see one in the two
Some day to come
the distance would grow
between that cell and itself
forever on to roam
What if I don’t want it badly enough?
Because if I did, the words would spill
forth like they used to, not penned in a penitent
blind fury to meet the deadline of a clock
striking midnight, and sometimes even they do,
but I turn tail at the first burst of wind
threatening to tear me from the ground,
my spokes askew, because to say it and to
do it are two separate beasts to slay and I cannot
be a knight with a pen and no sword
i wouldn’t have spotted the kittens under the car
i wouldn’t be able to watch greg’s progress on the house at the end of the block
i wouldn’t look into the windows of the old juice spot transform into what? a new coffee stop? a vape store? a crystal shop?
i hope it’s a breakfast joint, because the only thing that could improve my walk to work (besides traffic calming measures) is a bacon egg and cheese.
Buckets of hot wind beneath the redbuds
Cigarette after cigarette
Dissolved into the eye of the robin
I felt myself drifting
Spinning through stars
I could see the Big Dipper
The Kitten laying in the grass
The sunflowers slumping
The peppers sprinting
The prime truck
The mailman
The Robin climbed a flight of stairs
Cereal
Pizza
Pineapple
Cottage cheese
Awaking out of six dreams
Grinding and honeying coffee
I stumbled around in the heat with my mazda
Thinking of Mike at the old YMCA
Thinking of how in Spellbound
The doctors believed that to name a thing
was to cure it
Awaiting my hempen singlet
Goldie being beautiful
The tree next door making such charming
squeals with its trunks
The departure of the Pennsylvanians
The Kitten was hungry
exhaled my will —
accelerate into the bend
sudden mourning dove
swerve
salvation
“I’m stuck with it now”
beneath the rubbage and clutter,
lies the critters of which
i don’t know the names of
shocked, i feel grief
destroying their home
of which they made their beds
made their own economy
something my human brain
couldn’t fathom
i watch, mesmerized
the vibrant life before my eyes
along these river of thoughts
i am reminded why i do this
as sweat combines with my tears
and my joints begin to ache
removing trash off the sidewalk
making this concrete a home
not just for myself
not just for my neighbors
but for my bug friends
and things i cannot see
not destroying
but merely cleaning
for a better we
Throughout my entire life
The way of the women
Before me, and before their mothers
Was to gather ’round an altar
To pray for salvation
To pray for forgiveness
To pray for healing
To pray for their souls
To pray for the Lord Jesus Christ
To give them the strength to do
Whatever it was they were called for
To sing
To shout
To praise
To pray some more
Where creekside revivals
Were held for days on end
Behind the scenes of small church doors
Where the women hung to the cloth and cross
For fear of the repercussions of the Father,Son and Holy Ghost
Where deep in Appalachia the men mostly lay stripes with belts
I am certain that Jesus never found me there
I am certain that he never went looking
According to the women in the church
He would have never left the 99 to look
For a thing, such as me
If Heaven and Hell do exist
I am certain that I already met the devil
Behind the church outhouse
Where I witnessed hell in real time
Then preacher asked us to pray it all away
Assured us that it all would
We just had to come inside
Join the alter call, on our knees
pray we would be forgiven and
BELIEVE.
there isn’t much more that makes my existence
worthwhile
than seeing my children smile
so I vowed to protect them from evil,
even if and when their innocence
blinds them from seeing the bigger picture that exists
hopefully the loudest voice you
choose to listen to
and yet
it absolutely boggles my mind
how more than us that should
support or
vote
for
Pedophiles
Just about the worst thing that can happen
Is the onset of a much dreaded summer cold
Sniffling and snuffling; throat sore enough
That it makes life uncomfortable for a time
Itchy eyes and always tired, ready for bed
Before I even get out of it in the morning
Ears clogged up, can’t hear a darn thing
Not the ideal way to spend the warmest
Months of the year; in bed with kleenex
