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Eric

ballads

April 9, 2016 2 Comments

on gray mornings the birds sing their gray songs hidden within the brier calling into this space where amber once lay warm upon Spring-bloom’s lavender and I wonder if I shall ever feel again as I’d once felt these loves– all borrowed must be returned– let the birds sing their gray songs and I shall […]

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a bit more time

April 8, 2016 Leave a Comment

she calls in every once in a while looking for a bit more time to square up her bill the corporation doesn’t work like that and she won’t get her check from Social Security until the 20th and it’s the 7th now and I wonder what she’ll eat until then tho whenever I speak to […]

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crossed paths

April 8, 2016 Leave a Comment

he wasn’t at all as I’d imagined mustached, and graying not at all– mindful nor debonair still, the years left a familiar seethe bulging, in spiking points ‘neath his veined skin’s fraudulent indifference when he told me his name– I hadn’t mentioned that I knew of him or that I’d known her or that I’d […]

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Howl at the Moon

April 7, 2016 6 Comments

“Where are my pantyhose, Mary?” I hollered across the house to the fiery redhead who’d be my wife, if I’d the balls to marry her. I continued flinging things in a fevered search, waiting for a reply. She never answers when I holler, and doesn’t come when called, but she knows a trick or two, […]

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Four AM

April 7, 2016 Leave a Comment

Four AM doesn’t inquire politely. It kicked the door down in a spray of splintered hostility, stomped across the wooden floor, and dropped its burlap sack of stony thoughts on my forehead as I was sleeping. Though uninvited, it then flopped down in a chair to stay a while, bellowing loudly. I’d tried finding asylum […]

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vessels once filled

April 6, 2016 Leave a Comment

I don’t know what they’re talking about. I’ve never seen a woman’s reflection swirling in my whiskey, a lost love staring back at me; when a mumbling-fool’s summer daydream ends, as it has before, when the will is gone, both broken, when I stop asking why, when they become wavy-memory’s gorgeous distortions, I don’t drink […]

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poems at sunrise

April 6, 2016 1 Comment

I daren’t question my eyes– these things I see, shaking me, taking my pen, once again, writing their poems at sunrise.

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fields of May

April 5, 2016 2 Comments

E’er love of one and one, and each of both Hath spoken afore, betwixt, and with Ran ‘crost shimmery wheat, fields of May Ne’er measuring breadth, nor width I awakened one night from a dream in which I’d written a beautiful poem– of a type that I’ve never even learned to write; I know nothing […]

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precipice

April 5, 2016 Leave a Comment

she loved me like a snake loves a rat as it scrambles slithering trails and clawed striations our remembrances chased to the edge of the world where the mossy soil crumbles underfoot spilling into the abyss there, at the precipice only two choices remain one, decidely unkind and I understood, then why sensible men climb […]

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Will of the Divine

April 5, 2016 2 Comments

In lonesome love of cloud-wisps’ hope, legion’s wistful, wishful eyes did grope for torch’s light in dismal skies, praying solace of deliverance may come upon nigh. Knowing, a poet’s eyes draw woefully down, thereupon, twitching, on snowy ground, thrashing unabashedly, truth’s splendor be found, gasping, as it quivers its last gurgling sound. Deafened by beggars’ […]

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