part two of “The Officer” I can hear him, making a fire humming, silly ,lilting a children’s song? My eyes are closed feigning sleep but I see him the everpresent little smile Is he really that happy? He says something tugs my hair, then covers me says I deserve new shoes compliments my feet! Now …
reeking of a shellacked level of artifice her mocking faux laugh reminiscent of a wheezing death rattle or old fashioned saw it hemmed back and forth as she nodded almost rocking I cringed held my breath her gaze a jewelers loop appraised my hair, my shoes, my lack of ornamentation her eyes glittered, her brittle …
I take the stand an unlikely visitor . before me stands my inquisitor- While he looks down My head is held high- … I never leave his eyes.. “What say ye who stands accused?” “That which I do not possess does not make me love it any more or less. Those that have things arranged …
She wants to add.. others want to divide but your words, they soothe and pacify Filling her with tears she cannot cry Old wounds, they bleed anew There is no name for what she feels for you Your Galatea, you gave life to stone. Now she haunts a life not her own. Days conceal you, …
Gold has turned to salt water I’m afraid I may falter Im told there are worse chains- Dont complain. Feel myself changing re-arranging all that I once believed all to which I’ve cleaved. Wafers of sand dollars crushed underfoot The eldest of his harem, she bleeds but is barren. Belonging to one, loved by none. …
White man of yesteryear, from my tower I hear dirty boots astomping above, not underground- needs no prompting. He smells not of calvin klein, but of earth, sweat and spine tobacco, lead, rotgut and pine No thought fraudulent, or political convent Unfettered, ungelded, hellbent, a dying breed. Coachman yells “faster they’re gaining!” He charges on …
Anxious langor turns to vicious anger Try and hurt one I love, you’ll discover what hate’s made of It wouldn’t be so hard, I would not hesitate. Pen, knife or hands , I will dissect, then eviscerate Shylock you are in my sites You’ve preyed upon us too long now Contaminated us with lies and …
The Calling I , the undersigned , awake shaken, shivering strangling in a web of my own making How far can I bend without breaking? The Gods, displeased, want sacrifice With knife I cut , my fears, my vices They call , “Have you lost your wits? Do you not read the obits? and while …
“He had a Gladstone bag, he did, of leather” “A doctor?” “Don’t think so, not much of a talker.” “Charming?” “No, but clever” The lot of them, women, down and out. desperate for a draught of gin or stout. favors for pence, shillings, from the quite generous, perhaps a crown. The younger ones said “I …
The Spoils of War 