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 Sep 2023 Chuck Kean
Ben Palomino
And
there it crawled across my eyes
eight legs and all
I still couldn’t see why
It dare to make this climb
yet there it burrowed
In the back of my mind
catching your lies like flies  
I’ve never been more
fond of the web
We all see the same luminaries
That brighten our world
We all see them different
And that in itself
Enlightens our world
The blood red sunset was amazing
Where there is love
There will be fertile grounds
And  there’ll be blooming
flowers.



Shell ✨🐚
 Sep 2023 Chuck Kean
Nat Lipstadt
“The executioner’s face is always well hidden”

a Bob Dylan lyric

<>
mine own “ex,” in chest encased, silent, with grimacing smile,
happy to be of sir-vice, sent home unhappy, cause his cut,
not quite deep enough
this time,
though nearly succeeded,
but his biz is an-all-or-none inclusive Swifty tour, disillusioned,
he don’t get paid unless he brings my punched ticket to a glorious
sadness conclusion

someone asked (axed in local accent) if I’m nearer my god
having survived despite my best efforts at self destruction,
to which I’m smiling when uttering a “heartfelt prayer” of
Hell No!

cause the channel always been open and either side can initiate when so desired, the gates of love always open,
so wasn’t surprised when playing with my matches,
he went silent, but knew fully well, Mr. G a risk taker,
put his roulette chips on a “basket bet,” (1)
needing a double 00, to collect,
because, shoot, the timing was good…

Me?

ain’t naive enough to hope that a prayerful request
would not be met with a “now you want some intercession?”
and a heavenly sneer, cause we always been perfectly clear,
with each other, ask and you won’t receive, and none of that
what have you done for me lately razzamatazz,
nah, the record impurities gray
and no pencil erasures allowed…

knowing that the executioner will be back’ round someday,
my wounded heart too tempting to pass up twice, and
that’s ok, this old man learned to live with
a not entirely pleasant uncertainty,

”This old man, he played one,

He played knick-knack on my thumb;

With a knick-knack paddywhack,

Give the dog a bone,

This old man came rolling home.”


but he didn’t play two, having no kazoo!
Basket Bet

(1)
A basket bet, also known as a five-number bet, is where you bet that either 0, 00, 1, 2, or 3 will hit. It’s always these five roulette numbers. Since you need the 00 to make this bet happen, it’s limited to American roulette.
 Sep 2023 Chuck Kean
Chelsea Rae
Strange, isn't it?

The way we mourn those
Still living...
I miss you.
 Sep 2023 Chuck Kean
Phia
Therapy
 Sep 2023 Chuck Kean
Phia
Suddenly you transformed
Into a broken mirror.
All of the ugly, fragmented shards
Of my soul
Staring right back at me.
 Sep 2023 Chuck Kean
susan
she: what is it about me?
he: what do you mean?
she: me...?
he: uh...
she: what don't i have?
he: uh...
she: i'm overweight...
he: um...
she: i'm unattractive
he: what?...
she: i'm boring
he: no...
she: i'm dumb
he: uh, well....
she: i give up
he: well, i....
she: nope, that's it, i give up
he: oh, come on...
she: quit trying to talk me out of it
he: i was only...
she: i'm done, good bye
he: wait, what, where are you...
she: have a good life
          he:.....
he:....
he: what about dinner?
 Sep 2023 Chuck Kean
DElizabeth
i lost my mind the way i lose my rings in the washing machine

unexpectedly & suddenly


i can't find my mind the way i can't find my mom in the grocery store

scattered, scared, relentlessly & helplessly
 Sep 2023 Chuck Kean
Serendipity
Devil's roll the dice,
playing a card game meant for three
I sit a cross from them
playing cards, idly.

When asked why I lay in Hell,
I pause and stare at thee,
and ask you back
"Where else can I lie?
trying to imbibe,
the devil's game
is where I want to be."
I think Devils roll the Dice is apart of a Taylor Swift song I heard, credit to whoever came up with the line.
 Sep 2023 Chuck Kean
irinia
I have no choice but to breath this air
or do I? I can speak and I can write
something about anything,
I can witness the hows the whys
pro and cons of the daily agenda
freedom has a local flavour
idealogy a bitter taste

discrete pockets of life disjointed
I meet them on the streets
the social body this rags when
policemen rebel against the truth
doctors against health
teachers against compassion
politicians against duty
a slaughter house the mind in action

we look the other way with a laugh
not to see the epidemic of helplessness
political physiology gone awry
oppression cemented in our deeper minds
we carry it in our shoulders like
a gun machine waiting to happen
the collective focus a borderline land
the air itself suffocated by the
politics creating despair so that
minds have no more sceneries
to dream the world into existence
or do they?
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