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aayoung

Poetry, Prose, Art, Photography, Curiosities

the devil you know

there you are
right on cue
as if you personally orchestrated
my having been born
in September
the devil you know
swelling and morphing
through my dreams
your face changing
wearing various masks
such grand theatre
i weep
destroy my sheets
crying out in the night
reddest blood flowing
into marzipan rivers
oh my dear
how beautifully we suffer
this tether
my soul was lost
in an apple orchard
faded to ether

Over-The-Rhine

a 90 degree afternoon
in late September
leaves boiling off tree limbs
heat swirling billows
of sewer gas necrotic
urine stench blossoming
beneath the grimy crosswalk
underground rivers
of darkened discontent
glassy eyed hatred reflecting
off police car windows
drunken ballerina delirium
magic is dead beneath a tree
in Piatt Park
homeless
helpless
heroin limping
passed children unaware
their poverty is generational
a better life is four tax brackets away
no, son, no…
there is no god
in Over-The-Rhine
today

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

the sunrise where you stood

in the morning
when the water from your shower
& cologne airily conspire
for me to miss you
deeply breathing
the sunrise where you stood
holding a shirt you wore
yesterday
my consolation

closed for the season

soon
you won’t remember
the sound of summer’s voice
anymore

cinemascope

he loved me
the way film
can make death
beautiful

love story

i wrote it all down
in black eyeliner
on my pillow case

with interest

the passage of time

offers no absolution

for an apology owed

though the debtor’s heart

may forgive

a bill remains past due

gone over

into collections

 

blue ink

summer
falls behind
glass and sand sunset
shadows taller
our love
blue ink
unwinding
into water

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