October 22, 2015



not way outside the trailer porch screen/

stood in a stance/ an emotionally unbalanced/

unforseen chic/ attention-seeking/

14 yr old girl smoking/

she went and vents some again/

about her derelict parents/

and that she hid in bushes/

rather than come home when called from a running car/

she was sassy but the sec she flicked/

her butt out on the sunny yard/

& was told “Pick that up”/

she put it in a puddle/

(she was in more than a muddle)/

she was a spoon in spitting hot gumbo stew/

more than home  was chaos  in her classroom/

nightly she would walk/

right up & down that trailer park street talking/

no  yelling  to  herself/

someone old at a kitchen curtain/

called the cops & they came &/

appallingly cuffed her and offered/

a ride to a cell she had to hammer/

a call to guardians/ and if/

god doesn’t stammer/

they’d call some help/





That crap in yr creamy breasts  threaten us.


I pray for the day

We lay our selves back

No time on our back

I sing only songs that ring only true

Right to  only to you

In bed we’ll watch “Red Shoes”

We’ll leave off counting re-watching “Brief Encounter”

We’ll listen read & listen to Burton’s reading of “Under Milk Wood”

At least we’ll feast on a breading and cheese plate

We’ll  settle  in  safe

From cancer   and

From  wait.




.A rarity; one night very recently, I felt it necessary to pray. It was on the behalf of (me &) two very different souls; One a stranger, one a love.  –G.R.


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