Sitting on the cellar steps,
it was difficult to not admire
the rainwater that flowed
with determination across the floor.
Powerless to stop the flood,
I made a choice
to enjoy the fresh perspective.
So many others made feeble attempts
to control the inevitable
with sandbags and prayers.
I took a hit of whiskey
and then communed
with the storm.

-Ron Gavalik

Christmas shopping,
much like a belt of whiskey
or a short vacation,
gives us a chance to unplug
from the daily anxiety.
Transported from the grind,
we take simple pleasures
in considering the lives
of those around us,
the others.

-Ron Gavalik

On the construction site,
I dropped a shoulder of 2X4s.
While retrieving the planks,
I cursed the sky and the job.
An older guy barked at me,
‘This ****’s better than jail.’
His wisdom taught me
there are two prisons:
one with and one without
visible steel bars.

—Ron Gavalik

A terrible lover is similar
to a terrible piece of chicken.
You can choke it down
as expected, or cast
the remnants away
and move on.
Neither option is ideal,
but only one
is grounded in truth.

—Ron Gavalik

The night went on
as the madness kept coming.
There was nothing
I could do
to stop it.
Eyes closed,
I prayed long and hard
for the dawn.

—Ron Gavalik

I’ve never preferred turkey.
That bland taste is the reminder
of the bland jobs and the lovers
with bland imaginations.
When we give thanks,
I bow my head in reverence
for the perpetual fight.
That dash of ferment
snatches a glimmer of life
from the march toward
our insipid decline.

—Ron Gavalik