New Poem: THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU

 should I, I ask myself 

 will she think I’m bothering her?

 embracing temptation, I walk towards

 the table she sits at in the university library

 saying hello, she smiles and says hello

 small talk about school and studies

 then I mention how it’s been almost a year

 since we were Saturday acting classmates

 it becomes quiet; neither of us know what to say

 I throw a pebble into the silence

 time for me to resume studying

 take care, have a good rest of your weekend

 she smiles and says you too in a warm voice

 >

 after returning to my table,

 I open my high school English book

 read e.e. cummings poem buffalo bill’s defunct

 as my mind’s eye watches a balloon climb the sky

 before disappearing 

Revised Poem: BEFORE EMERGING (Version 2)

surrounded by doctors and nurses

fighting the odor of transplant 

faith in their assurances of extended life

many thoughts of what I’ve done so far

and all the things I’m looking forward to

once I become free to rejoin the world outside

New Poem: BEING DISAPPOINTING

 when what you want 

 and what your parents want for you

 are two different things entirely 

 and you bend to keep peace

 but finding out you have no aptitude 

 for the profession chosen to please them

 slogging along nonetheless 

 classes are a chore 

 you don’t identify with CPA-bound classmates

 at least you enjoy University symphonic band 

 even though you’re only competent 

 because you’ve made a few friends

 watching some of them on track

 to become band directors in nearby towns 

 wishing silently you could change majors

 but not wanting to be harangued about practicality 

you’re disappointing yourself 

and eventually your parents will give up

watch you flail but won’t let you starve

  

New Poem: WENT TO SEE THE POETRY BULLY

 went to see the poetry bully at the anthology reading

 not necessarily to see him but a few others on the bill

 as have we all, he has aged a bit

 now he looks like a backup musician for The Black Keys

 instead of the vibrant slam artist/tastemaker of yore

 I still remember him cybercalling me witless friendless talentless turd

 because I took issue with his basement literary circle jerk

 intended only for him and his coterie of special friends

 >

 so he read his contribution to the poetry anthology

 some write bloody nonsense about him with a woman

 I looked in vain for the bookstore cat

 figured out he might be in the upstairs office

 so his feline responses wouldn’t throw the poetry bully off-stride

>

 listened to the poets after bullyman—most were better

 but I recall the rifle butt to my self esteem

 oh I tore the powerful bully’s tissue paper feelings 

 and he never even met me (or, likely, bothered with my poems)

 just decided to give the stink eye 

 to fall in line with others who needed him

 but I persevere decades later

>

 don’t want him ever again being the arbiter of me

 damn sure don’t want him at my funeral 

 

 

New Poem: THE ROAD TO MANKINS

 get in the car with me

 we’ll take Highway 25 from Electra

 past the United Methodist Church 

 past the Memorial Hospital

 going a number of miles

 until we reach the four-way stoplight 

 where I pull to the right and park 

 >

 see the amusement park rides

 all in pieces and sleeping 

 this is where fun goes to hibernate 

 maybe the rides will go to other towns

 or perhaps they’ll be sold for scrap 

 >

 son, get back in the car

 you just learned an important life lesson

 don’t assume things will stay the same