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aayoung

Poetry, Prose, Art, Photography, Curiosities

Category

sociology

across the ohio

when the oxycodone and meth crops fail in kentucky

the country folk flock

across the ohio river into cincinnati

to go to the open air opioid market

people once came to the queen city from the south

to get factory jobs that no longer exist

they were called briar hoppers

we don’t have a name for these new immigrants

other than marginalized, homeless, inmate, and DOA’s

but they’re good at making change

a five dollar bill on the streets of this town

will turn into a baggy of heroin

faster than it will turn

to singles

sweetly, simply

ice blue shimmer

swaddling a snowy city

morning is being delivered

at the library’s

side door

i crosswalk dash

through breathy billows

from my rose red lips

a parliament of cellos

cooing ave maria to a piano in my mind

focused on the coming coffee and time clock

when the man walking passed me

lifts my trance by smiling

sweetly, simply he says,

“beautiful…”

bee keeping

my heart chose you
then took up
bee keeping
combs verdant
dripping honey onto
scratch biscuit mornings
we are
monks whispering matins
into steaming coffee

Uncle Etheridge

my Uncle Etheridge
was grace personified
a Kentucky horseman
of noble heart

my grandmother’s dear brother
who frequently had
a formidable pipe
clenched between his teeth
and from him plumed
rich histories in tobacco smoke

finely crafted stories
commanding our young attention

dignified in a way few men are
what I loved most about him
was his deep bass voice
a black velvet tide
rolling toward you
a gentle thunder
over a Bluegrass prairie

my poetry waits quietly in my pocketbook

happiness is
turning my moments
of inspiration
into
stream-of-consciousness
Pinterest sessions
where one may choose
cakes made from edible flowers
lavender lovely
make wedding centerpieces
from hemp rope,
vintage coffee sack burlap,
and the discarded
quilt pieces of the
Daughters of the American Revolution
my poetry waits quietly
in my pocketbook
content in my joy
encouraging me
to be my own woman
a connoisseur of literature
a goddess of wine
Dionysus triumphant
a suburban expatriate
who refuses to put a rug
on her toilet lid
born to a people who do

See Rock City

how far man has come
from the moment
we were a trillionth the size
of a mote of dust
sunbeam suspended
matter dancing out of existence on
antimatter stripper poles
super heated
into the biggest bang ever to blow
horny comets
into hadrons of extinct dinosaurs
dead shopping malls
kamikaze day traders
perched atop
financial district temples
sky diving down to
urine caked sidewalks
radicalized soccer moms
suicide bomb drum majors
high stepping into
Russian voting booths
and sheepy suburbanites
willing to eat hot artichokes

city confidential

i’m guilty
of compartmentalizing
my life
no one will know each other
at my funeral
Robert Stack will narrate
the unsolved mysteries
there will be several unknown
oddly distraught
handsome gentlemen
friends from all over
and family
who will conduct it
like a senate hearing

struggling mites of the planet

standing in the shower

this morning

i saw a spider die fighting

against the current of water

and i thought to myself

i could write a few lines for that lost arachnid

his own rime of the ancient mariner

an ode to the minutiae

the miniscule struggling mites of the planet

but what’s the fucking point of flowery conjecture

regarding what does and doesn’t matter

i can’t save him with words

or write an appropriate memorial

nor can i save

a gassed syrian baby

or a woman standing

in the way of an exploding madman panel truck

the waning poet in me cries out for a god

who stood us up

who split with our luggage

who never checked in

at the hotel airport

yeah, i could write a poem

if i remembered

what a poet is

what’s more poetic

than a poet

who doesn’t

feel like a poet

anymore

 

war by candlelight

amidst the curiosities

of my yet to be packed up

roll top desk

i found a diamond bracelet

you had given me

hiding in one of

the apothecary drawers

it reminded me immediately

how you waged

war by candlelight

instinctively i pulled the pin

on that gauche grenade

lobbing the tacky bauble

into the goose shit encircled pond

behind the house

your weaponry

is not welcome here

anymore

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