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Grizzo Mar 2015
It's hard to say,
You can't really tell.
I hope you have insurance
I wish you well.

When you get this note,
know that I'm an honest guy,
just send me a text
and I'm sure
my insurance will
set you up right.
Grizzo Mar 2015
SPF 40,
cheap sunglasses,
Alcohol
when you shouldn't drink,
a weekend all season long,
until the pools close
until you lose
your sunglasses,
until you wake up
on your back
in your back yard,
blanketed by red, yellow
and orange
leaves
Grizzo Mar 2015
if life were more about,
trading baseball cards,
riding roller coasters,
staying out past
curfew

we would be
friends for
life

But life
is more about
ego
pride
*******

you became someones
to me, because of no ones
important to either
one now

so just like
marbles and hardwood floors,
the right thing to say at the time,
things
get
lost.
*** is a powerful thing
Grizzo Mar 2015
Burns holes
in the soul,

the soles
of my shoes

You know the pair

The black Chuck Taylor's
with red dirt on the toes
from our vacation last summer

It was when we walked around
your hometown

That's when
I realized
I hate you
Some people would be prettier
if they couldn't speak
Grizzo Mar 2015
Father,
grandfather,
father's grandfather,

all died
by the blade.

Father's grandfather
fell fighting one hundred.

Grandfather
fell fighting too.

Father
fell fighting as well,

while protecting his
wounded troop.

All these men
put up a fight,

they did what they
had to do

It runs in our veins,
we stay the same,

destined to do
what we do.

Our grandmothers hug
our grandchildren,

while they still can

widows
tell their sons
when they're old
enough to use
a blade

so one day,
whenever my son

asks where father
went off to

tell him
it runs in our veins

tell him
I will see
him soon.
I had a completely different poem planned for this theme, but the words started doing their own thing. The struggle is real. The blade calls!
Grizzo Mar 2015
My next-door neighbor
is building a rocket to the
moon.

He has been at it for weeks,
banging, buzzing,
waiting for that one song,
his song, on the radio.
He will wipe the sweat

from his face climb into
the hatch and start the countdown.
One day, he told me about his life.
Separated, paying six hundred

dollars in child support
and taxes a month. Thirty-three,
living in the room he grew up in.

One day soon.
He was going.
Published in HSU Corral and St Edward's New Literai Graduate journal.
Grizzo Mar 2015
FRIDAY
1:00 – 3:30

I swept the packing area.
Three neat piles of duct tape,
plastic wrap, saw dust, dumped
into a trashcan. Made
another mess while packing
toys into boxes for the
community’s Angel Tree.

MONDAY
11:15 - 12:45

A self-proclaimed alcoholic
asked me for a cigarette. He
preached to me with an unsteady
tongue and hollow eyes. I met a case
worker named Maria and alphabetized
children’s names and Christmas wishes.

2:30 - 4:30         

Stapled $7.00 price tags
to shirt collars, pants pockets,
working alongside a man
who served ten years in
prison. He finished loading
a shopping cart and I pushed
the items into the store.
I put cracked ceramic plates,
dusty books, and twisted wire
roosters onto an empty shelf.

TUESDAY
2:30 – 3:30         

Maria turned the wish forms
into Captain Smith. I went
to the Captain’s office and
entered Christmas wishes
into a database. Captain Smith
tapped her fingers on the desk,
hummed along to her Christian
radio station and talked about
the importance of volunteers.

3:45 – 5:00          

The yard on the east side
of the store needed to be
cleaned. Plastic wrap blown
into the barbed wire fence
surrounding broken computers,
archaic metal heaters, and
miscellaneous types of scrap.
After we loaded the trailer
I swept the packing area
and smoked a cigarette.

WEDNESDAY
11:15 – 1:30          

I finished entering the
forms into Captain
Smith’s computer
while she was out
at lunch. I walked around
outside but I didn’t find
the drunk. Captain
Smith signed my
completion of volunteer
service sheet and joked,
“I guess we won’t be
seeing you again.”
I volunteered at the Salvation Army in college during my last semester. This poem came from my experiences there.
Published in HSU Corral and St Edward's New Literai Graduate journal.
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