The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

**** the twin-size mattress,
that cheap indigo color.
Where my best friend’s legs,
her hands and knees,
were entangled in struggle.

**** his barbell body
heavy and cold to the touch.
She had been hunted  
by someone that she trusted.

**** the world that assumed  
she was kissed. Not gripped,
nor crushed under his pressing force.

**** the cinder block walls  
of that college dormitory,
where she stared and refused
to sleep in her own bed
After that night.

**** the catchy tune of breath
rolling over teeth  
that play in her head.
**** her father. He would say
he doesn’t approve of her *******.

So, she chose to stay quiet.
Forgettably quiet.

'You there in the back
your name escapes me
we have heard a poem from everyone else
you are the last'

the silence was thick fog rolling in
they stared and lightly giggled
nervous
I sensed that in them
afraid to show any real interest
in what I was about to say
they had read their pieces
on daffodils and daisies
sunsets and moonbeans
now they would hear what they knew was coming
I was the kid they crossed the street to avoid
that sat alone at lunch
not the geek
not the freak
just the unknown
quiet but confident
saying everything in my silence
by the time I had finished
'Hollow Man'
they knew me better
yet the distance became greater

they told mommy and daddy
the Starkman spoke in class today

your eyes remind me
of a crystal clear
sea with waves
crashing every second

This book is full
of my father's eye lashes
He treated the pages
rough like his sons
pinching the daylights
out of them, I remember
mud and grease
on calloused thumbs
and you can still smell
Four Roses bourbon
in the morning
through the onionskin
He would not weep
he knew most folks
never kept their word
Anyway, his death
came through
like a hitchhiker
You could see it coming
like the slow light
of a faraway dead star.

Forty years in this old house
It’s filled with treasures lacking worth
To anyone expecting gold,
But priceless in the life recalled.

The warnings came a week ago-
A cataclysmic storm they said
Stock up water and food to eat
That won’t require electricity.

I laid in water and granola bars
And put some things in plastic bags
I wrote my ID on my forearm
Feeling silly as I did.

I moved things to the second floor
Assuring them of some protection
I wish I could have carried more
But the rain was knocking on the door.

It came seeping underneath
And as I watched, it soaked the rug.
Not satisfied with ruined carpet
It crept up the sofa’s skirt.

What am I still doing here
They said do not evacuate
So I am forced to watch the death
Of all I worked so hard to own.

I’s almost knee deep in the kitchen
Where’s my hammer and crow bar
Dang! they’re both out in the shed
I should have thought to bring them in.

It’s lucky I don’t have a pet
No dog or cat or bird or fish
Another life to fret about
When I can barely save my own.

The water’s nearly hip deep now
And rising at a hellish rate
The walls are shaking from the pressure
It’s time for me to move upstairs.

The rain’s a wall I can’t see through
I don’t know how my neighbors fare.
The power’s out - the house is silent
Except for the drumming of the rain.

My lantern is the only light -
How long will the batteries last.
Oh Lord, I’m starting to get frightened
Water’s coming up the stairs, silent as a burglar.

They said don’t go into the attic
Get up on the roof instead.
They didn’t tell us how to do that
How to break ceiling and shingles.

I’m old - I’ve lost the strength of youth
I don’t think I can get up there.
If the water keeps on rising
I must prepare to meet my maker

All I love live far away
Are they as frantic now as me
Will a neighbor come and find me
My cel phone battery just died

Still the ugly, ***** water
Inches further up the stairs.
The old house shudders in the windy gusts
And I can’t keep my fingers steady

I just wrote something on the wall-
A farewell to my family
They should know I thought of them
As water seeps across this floor.

I’ve broken out a window
Over the submerged porch
There’s no point in going out it
I’d only just be swept away.

The water’s almost knee deep here too
I know it’s never going to stop
It’s foolish to stand up on a chair
I’ll say my prayers and go to bed

I’m sure that only God can save me
Neighbors have their problems too.
I’ve lived for eighty happy years
It’s time to shake the hand of fate.

I wonder what it’s like, this drowning
They say you see your life again.
That almost makes it worth the going
Except the sadness left behind.

The bed clothes now are wet and sopping
I never knew I could feel so cold
There’s a rumble in the distance
Like a giant waterfall.

Growing closer like a jet plane
What do you suppose it is
Now the house is really shaking
And I can

ljm