Poetry

Best friends 
 
I’m quiet
shy and introverted
I don’t make friends easily

I have just one friend
my best friend
Devin

he has blond curly hair
always smiling
easy going
but somehow questioning

legs splayed
sitting on the sidewalk
outside his house
we talk for hours

about life
about God
about religion
about girls

I’m quiet
but not with Devin

Let’s go to Nathan’s
let’s build a raft

one time he 
talked me into
riding my bike
all the way 
to Fort Lauderdale

further than 
I had ever been
miles and miles

leaving my block
was far for me
leaving my front door
was far

Fort Lauderdale
an adventure
I’ll never forget
                                                       
I’ll also never forget
the call
his dad answered the phone

he’s gone
he shot himself

my mind 
spinning
I didn’t know
what to say

I never
found out
what happened
I guess that’s strange

I just went back
back to being quiet

no more talks
no bike rides to Fort Lauderdale
no best friend

back 
back to my block
back to my front door

Published by Skyway Journal, January 2021
Second
 
I’m six
I’m going to be on Skipper Chuck
I’ve won a contest
second
a girl won first
 
I see two bikes
a pink and a blue
I’m so excited
I think I’ve won
that bike
 
this is the best day 
of my life
 
I’m with my
grandmother
she squeezes 
my hand
 
I have to go
up on stage
in front of 
all the other kids
 
that fills me 
with terror

they laugh and point
 
I can’t stop thinking
about the bike
 
I’m standing on the stage
afraid
 
I wave
I’m wearing
a little Styrofoam hat
like a Mayor’s hat
 
my short pants 
don’t fit right
 
the first place girl
has won the bike

I win
a wardrobe from Sears
 
I want
to die
 
I wish I had never won
 
second
is the worst place of all
 
you have to go
up on stage
and you don’t
get a bike
 
this is the worst day
of my life
 
I hope
no one else
ever wins
second

Published by The Daily Drunk, December 2020
Glory and Grace
 
He disappeared again
I was sleeping
but something stirred 
me awake
 
the car was gone
the old panic
set in
 
call, call
text, text
track the iPhone
found
 
near the airport
I know better
but I go anyway
 
bleary eyed
wandering
a sex club
or technically
a video store
 
someone’s getting
fucked on the screen
men in silhouette
jerk in rhythm
 
I track the phone
beep beep beep
in there
a man motions
 
the booths
connected by
a glory hole
a cock widthdraws

and he’s there
caught in remorse
the red sweatshirt
stuffs the opening
 
let’s go
he shakes
we have breakfast
we move
 
from glory hole
to grace

Published by Tealight Press, September 2020

%d bloggers like this: