Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"decatur" poems
The posters said tomorrow At eleven on the dot The Mishkin Brothers Circus Would be here ....on this spot There would be no carnival or midway Just one tent and three rings And all of the excitement That a good old circus brings There would be elephants and lions Trapeze artists overhead Dancing dogs and ponies And zebras painted red Clowns of all description Answering to just one man In the center of the circle Was Mishkin brother....Dan He'd run the show for twenty years Gone from town to town to town In one day they would get set up And in two, they'd tear it down One day to show the locals The circus still was an event With magic, form the Barnum Days All housed inside one tent The sideshow barkers and their geeks Were not with this fine group Dan Mishkin had assembled Only the finest circus troup From Russia he had jugglers Knife throwers, just the best ******** riders from Decatur Along with all the rest Fourteen trucks and trailers Pulled into town the night before Breaking ground once they arrived Working right through until four Just old time entertainment No travelling gypsy band was this It was the Mishkin Brothers Circus It was something not to miss The show was started promptly At twelve o'clock, like the sign said A parade of all the players And the zebras painted red Two shows and it was over The whole routine began anew The field was once more empty Gone was the Mishkin rolling zoo A year from now, we'd see the signs And we'd all go to the tent To see the Mishkin Brothers Circus The best money ever spent
0
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 4:48 PM UTC
The day the circus came to town
The posters said tomorrow At eleven on the dot The Mishkin Brothers Circus Would be here ....on this spot There would be no carnival or midway Just one tent and three rings And all of the excitement That a good old circus brings There would be elephants and lions Trapeze artists overhead Dancing dogs and ponies And zebras painted red Clowns of all description Answering to just one man In the center of the circle Was Mishkin brother....Dan He'd run the show for twenty years Gone from town to town to town In one day they would get set up And in two, they'd tear it down One day to show the locals The circus still was an event With magic, form the Barnum Days All housed inside one tent The sideshow barkers and their geeks Were not with this fine group Dan Mishkin had assembled Only the finest circus troup From Russia he had jugglers Knife throwers, just the best ******** riders from Decatur Along with all the rest Fourteen trucks and trailers Pulled into town the night before Breaking ground once they arrived Working right through until four Just old time entertainment No travelling gypsy band was this It was the Mishkin Brothers Circus It was something not to miss The show was started promptly At twelve o'clock, like the sign said A parade of all the players And the zebras painted red Two shows and it was over The whole routine began anew The field was once more empty Gone was the Mishkin rolling zoo A year from now, we'd see the signs And we'd all go to the tent To see the Mishkin Brothers Circus The best money ever spent
Continue reading...
52
Ghost Relics Downtown, where Main intersects Main you'll see the last living tissue of a breathing bazaar. They weighed down her chest with bricks and girders. It's a wonder she breathes at all. - Wander too far in any direction and you're sure to see the husks of once proud and bustling businesses. Abandoned sanctums of mortar and majesty. Scars of the Midwest etched as constants in our mind. Dusty and silent since the cradle. - The theaters are bedeviled with dolled up haunts who just wandered over from Greenwood to catch the matinee. Management still leaves the lights on for kicks after hours to throw off their sleep schedules while they wait for the feature to start. Up all night, sleep all day; they read by neon and slumber under Sol. Here I am, left lounging in The Devil's Chair. Crickets keep quavering. - Underneath the Franklin Street overpass sleeps a family bound by naught. They watch in dawn's light as the few pedestrian that traverse Cerro Gordo advert their eyes as some sort of silent symbol of respect for their situation. It's as if the very stare of a privileged man could drain 'til depleted. They never ask for anything, they just wade it out and listen to the cars overhead, the train-clock's trumpet, and the heartbeats in between. - Leaks are patched, potholes filled, and yet we're still loosing blood; becoming beguiled. So many stray cats in the civilian savanna, aimlessly seeking names and second chances. "This premises is under police video surveillance" - hanging like ornaments from streetlamp poles. - Guarding the gates of a dwindling dominion, as the armies of Union and Grand wait in their camps for the rust to take hold of her iron veins.
0
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Decatur, A Kingdom in Six Parts, Part II: Ghost Relics
Ghost Relics Downtown, where Main intersects Main you'll see the last living tissue of a breathing bazaar. They weighed down her chest with bricks and girders. It's a wonder she breathes at all. - Wander too far in any direction and you're sure to see the husks of once proud and bustling businesses. Abandoned sanctums of mortar and majesty. Scars of the Midwest etched as constants in our mind. Dusty and silent since the cradle. - The theaters are bedeviled with dolled up haunts who just wandered over from Greenwood to catch the matinee. Management still leaves the lights on for kicks after hours to throw off their sleep schedules while they wait for the feature to start. Up all night, sleep all day; they read by neon and slumber under Sol. Here I am, left lounging in The Devil's Chair. Crickets keep quavering. - Underneath the Franklin Street overpass sleeps a family bound by naught. They watch in dawn's light as the few pedestrian that traverse Cerro Gordo advert their eyes as some sort of silent symbol of respect for their situation. It's as if the very stare of a privileged man could drain 'til depleted. They never ask for anything, they just wade it out and listen to the cars overhead, the train-clock's trumpet, and the heartbeats in between. - Leaks are patched, potholes filled, and yet we're still loosing blood; becoming beguiled. So many stray cats in the civilian savanna, aimlessly seeking names and second chances. "This premises is under police video surveillance" - hanging like ornaments from streetlamp poles. - Guarding the gates of a dwindling dominion, as the armies of Union and Grand wait in their camps for the rust to take hold of her iron veins.
Continue reading...
42
Changing buses at Flamingo and Decatur, a Sister ogles my comped leather jacket, while braceros mill about across the street, awaiting any drive-by job offer. This is the Vegas never seen from the Strip; a town of cheap gifts and off-the-books labor, where paychecks disappear in Dollar Loan Centers, every cranny packing a local's casino. A hundred taxis queue outside the Palms, like pilot fish seeking ectoparasites upon a shark. Inside the thousand dollar escorts hustle overextended gamblers busting hard 16's at the tables. I told the Sister I'd won the jacket. Impressing her that anyone would ever be a winner, watched her intentionally cross the street to invite a bracero out to breakfast. The 103 bus downtown ran late. Leaving my losing parlay tickets on the bus, I walk through the parking lot of despair, the casino's glass doors awaiting me.
0
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 10:21 PM UTC
Drowning in the Squonk's Tears
You can't safely have a cigarette outside of the bus terminal without a couple of folk asking for one. You can't safely have a cigarette in general. But, if five of them have to last you a night and a sunrise, you don't really mind turning down a few nameless hands. Some of the bus drivers like to talk about football, weather; others complain about management or the patrons; a few don't say much at all, avoiding sympathy. They're probably the smart ones. They don't want to learn the sad stories in between stops. I usually like to just sit in the back and ride out the best bumps. The handrails jiggle and crash with every pothole. - The men who work at the metal scrap yard usually get on in front of Debbie's Diner on 22nd street. Bundled up for warmth and firm of face, they only speak to each other. Small talk about who almost missed the bus, broken crane joints, and who moved the most barrels of copper piping fill the blocks. They tend to pick on the guy who runs the aluminum can crusher; big guy, they call him "Boose" and he couldn't be much older than I am. His hands and lips are dry and cracked from exposure, but his face still shows ember of teenage years, though jilted. There is a bar that serves three-dollar chili across the street, spicy. The workers go there when they miss the first bus, have a beer, down a bowl of boiling chili, and catch the return bus in better moods. - The railroads on Brush College road tend to hold up traffic. The ADM plant doesn't really mind if a few twenty-something mothers are late to their practical nursing and phlebotomy classes, but they voice their complaints out of a cracked window to the side of a ten story soybean silo nonetheless; steaming ears and all. I stare at the graffiti on the laggard train cars, each unique in color, quality, style, and message; the industrial Louvre. These waits sometimes last a half hour or more. In the days before Pell grant rewards come in, when students still feel like they're working toward tangible cash, the seats are all packed with heavy breathers. The air becomes thick with community college carbon coughs.
0
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 9:23 PM UTC
Decatur Public Transit
You can't safely have a cigarette outside of the bus terminal without a couple of folk asking for one. You can't safely have a cigarette in general. But, if five of them have to last you a night and a sunrise, you don't really mind turning down a few nameless hands. Some of the bus drivers like to talk about football, weather; others complain about management or the patrons; a few don't say much at all, avoiding sympathy. They're probably the smart ones. They don't want to learn the sad stories in between stops. I usually like to just sit in the back and ride out the best bumps. The handrails jiggle and crash with every pothole. - The men who work at the metal scrap yard usually get on in front of Debbie's Diner on 22nd street. Bundled up for warmth and firm of face, they only speak to each other. Small talk about who almost missed the bus, broken crane joints, and who moved the most barrels of copper piping fill the blocks. They tend to pick on the guy who runs the aluminum can crusher; big guy, they call him "Boose" and he couldn't be much older than I am. His hands and lips are dry and cracked from exposure, but his face still shows ember of teenage years, though jilted. There is a bar that serves three-dollar chili across the street, spicy. The workers go there when they miss the first bus, have a beer, down a bowl of boiling chili, and catch the return bus in better moods. - The railroads on Brush College road tend to hold up traffic. The ADM plant doesn't really mind if a few twenty-something mothers are late to their practical nursing and phlebotomy classes, but they voice their complaints out of a cracked window to the side of a ten story soybean silo nonetheless; steaming ears and all. I stare at the graffiti on the laggard train cars, each unique in color, quality, style, and message; the industrial Louvre. These waits sometimes last a half hour or more. In the days before Pell grant rewards come in, when students still feel like they're working toward tangible cash, the seats are all packed with heavy breathers. The air becomes thick with community college carbon coughs.
Continue reading...
38
I met Virginia in a wave of sleet. On Decatur, a hundred winters ago, with a black iris, black hair in ponytail, with a tongue like a nightcrawling widow, Virginia whispered tornados behind the backs of the grey-suited saxophone players, going blue in the cheeks, under their blackface. Under a flimsy sheet of moon sliver sky and a dim streetlight, Virginia kicked a soda can along the cracking concrete. With each bar we passed, I hollered, "Thank God we're alive!" and danced a shapeless jig. Near Williamson cemetery, Virginia's white knuckles laced into mine. "The amount of time we have cheapens whatever purpose we have," Virginia hissed. I caressed her serpentine neck. A lone car's high beams made Virginia's silhoutte tower above the cemetery gates, made Virginia's black irises madden to poisonous yellow. She loosened my grey necktie. I let down her hair. A sea of collected strands fell like a closing curtain. The distant saxophone ascended to heaven, leaving me below, leaving me below, leaving me to spend the night bellowing for above.
0
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 4:35 AM UTC
Decatur Street
Union and Grand I moved into this house less than a year ago and already three gun related murders have occurred within a three block radius; two of them involving children. I'm not making this **** up. Those numbers wouldn't be anything exciting for a population hitting upwards of the millions, but this is not a big city. This is the heartland. - The city paid for a series of strategically placed dead ends, forced turns, and surveillance equipment to be installed in the area of about a mile surrounding my house. No wonder they call this place "The Trap". They keep changing the maze, and studying us like rats. - They had a make-do memorial for the little girl who got shot. They attached her stuffed animals, cards, and photos to a utility pole on the corner of Union and Grand. The city had it taken down. Some kind of city ordinance from some dusty tome at the town hall. Kids killing kids, and the shots keep firing. - Now don't get me wrong, I'm not what'd you call an activist. But when bloodshed occurs within eye shot of where you sleep, you start to get a little irked. These kids have as much potential as me, and twice as much grit. Their teachers barely even know their names, let alone what it's like to be deprived of privilege. - I'll stomp this concrete until my feet break. This labyrinth is my constant reminder and reality check. I am here, and you are there. This connection is suspended on silver threads and I am your puppet. Mold me into your angst driven dreamboat. Because tomorrow, I'm just going to wake up here. Tyler. - This soul has been folded seven times and I grow tired of this reality. There was a time when I could scream loud enough to wake the dead. I guess I'm showing the symptoms of an accidental child with a tongue that only tastes art as bitter protest. - I'd tear my face off to know if this is really getting through to you. The face in the photo is that of the goat; the false idol and deceiver. A Knight of Pentacles, selling you gold plated garbage. Odin-kin. You always feel like I have a secret to keep; my fist is in the air.
0
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 3:05 AM UTC
Decatur, A Kingdom in Six Parts, Part III: Union and Grand
Union and Grand I moved into this house less than a year ago and already three gun related murders have occurred within a three block radius; two of them involving children. I'm not making this **** up. Those numbers wouldn't be anything exciting for a population hitting upwards of the millions, but this is not a big city. This is the heartland. - The city paid for a series of strategically placed dead ends, forced turns, and surveillance equipment to be installed in the area of about a mile surrounding my house. No wonder they call this place "The Trap". They keep changing the maze, and studying us like rats. - They had a make-do memorial for the little girl who got shot. They attached her stuffed animals, cards, and photos to a utility pole on the corner of Union and Grand. The city had it taken down. Some kind of city ordinance from some dusty tome at the town hall. Kids killing kids, and the shots keep firing. - Now don't get me wrong, I'm not what'd you call an activist. But when bloodshed occurs within eye shot of where you sleep, you start to get a little irked. These kids have as much potential as me, and twice as much grit. Their teachers barely even know their names, let alone what it's like to be deprived of privilege. - I'll stomp this concrete until my feet break. This labyrinth is my constant reminder and reality check. I am here, and you are there. This connection is suspended on silver threads and I am your puppet. Mold me into your angst driven dreamboat. Because tomorrow, I'm just going to wake up here. Tyler. - This soul has been folded seven times and I grow tired of this reality. There was a time when I could scream loud enough to wake the dead. I guess I'm showing the symptoms of an accidental child with a tongue that only tastes art as bitter protest. - I'd tear my face off to know if this is really getting through to you. The face in the photo is that of the goat; the false idol and deceiver. A Knight of Pentacles, selling you gold plated garbage. Odin-kin. You always feel like I have a secret to keep; my fist is in the air.
Continue reading...
51
*The fundamental phenomena in nature are symmetrical with respect to interchange of past and future.* --- Richard Feynman                  Millions for Defense In the Cabinet room of Monticello, clutching Decatur's letter, the President removes his wire-rimmed glasses --- Frigate Philadelphia has been burned. Decanting a bourbon, he pours and quaffs. Outside in the piazza the cicadas' din is unbroken. The Pasha of Tripoli has his tribute! In three short hours warm rays of sunlight will greet the outstretched arms of Earth, but for now the bourbon scintillates. Ink splatters on the blotter, as he pounds a clenched fist upon the desk. Not one cent!, he pronounces to the wall-clock. Cicadas hold sway in the Charlottsville night, but on the Barbary Coast a fire is raging.
0
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 9:39 AM UTC
Millions for Defense
Nebulous and Refined The castle is a chain-smoker. The king wears a three piece suit. And in the air, most everywhere that scent just does not dilute. - A car lot filled with scribes and serfs that assemble to deliver their willing tax. They bump and argue for the closest view of their Man-God on high: Glycine max. - Employment is down! Crime is up! What if the factories all move away? This town will surely shrivel and die! That's what the soiled townsfolk say. - They humbly bow to their master's whim but behind him they say much more. Another Dead Man found Stale Lee in the vents. Carcinoma galore.
0
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Decatur, A Kingdom in Six Parts, Part I: Nebulous and Refined
I am a poor boy - A Capricorn Perpetually saddened by my surroundings Eight cats have sought me out for sanity's sake But none of us seem able to escape on our own All voices silenced for the sake of the rude, the drunkard has-been, and so many varieties of dream abandoned lives. I fail to see any exit, reasoning, or plan. These are the trials of a wisdom seeker trapped in a pretty shell - conjuring Hell. The west side of this city is falling apart and my house is definitely no exception. Any wealth left is gained from trading in talent, hope, and aspiration for meager work in refineries and plants that pollute the bloodstream. Causing Decatur to purposely decay into Lethe and remove itself from memory and history - suicidal city. I am just another generation in a long line of poor romantics who close their eyes to the world. I must have been born with the wrong last name and composed of the wrong ingredients. I may have insight, but no one dares or cares to hear it. These people have given up on beauty and have begun the worship of agriculture, but Artemis is no where to be seen. My world has abandoned appreciation or art because they have stripped it down to a profitable formula. This may be a hopeless venture. They have infected me with their grief. Let the slumber of the soy city wash over me.
0
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 10:36 AM UTC
Overwhelming Murk of the Doubling House
Torrential, lightning and a river on Decatur, straightened tie, loaded gun, staggered down to house 423, a big wet bottle in my hand, a choir of angels in my head, I confessed to you that I never much cared for Frost, possibly both roads lead to an affair with me, time means little more than air, cotton candy fever dreams, melting wedding bands, a stain on your white dress, tender, torn up, seeing Jesus on the cross at 3 am, it's Tuesday, borders, lines, barriers, milk cartons, hamster wheels, the sun stayed away for fear of witnessing this itchy massacre, plans? I find them trite, quick to betray, overdrawn bank accounts, flat tires, 17-year-old quick ***** the wrinkles in the mirror, the road back home, detour, detour, going down south by way of 35, oceans of highways, shorelines of grief, steady shots of grace in the passenger seat, where have I smelled that before? Change your perfume, if I kiss you, it needs to be strange, frightening, splitting the seams of norm skull and disemboweling the sanctity of routine, it's easy to put up the picket fence, easier yet to paint it black, but behind the curtains of my .32 caliber grin, lies a quivering child waiting for ma to get off work, babysit me, hospital gowns, looking for lost blue crayons, the bouquet rots on the windowsill, remember the first kiss? Doped on caffeine, sleepless because Shorty partied too hard, tile floor, porcelain, your strapless top undressed itself, earthquake waltz, borderline insane, milk thistle, both roads lead to an affair with me.
0
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 12:17 AM UTC
gunplay
Torrential, lightning and a river on Decatur, straightened tie, loaded gun, staggered down to house 423, a big wet bottle in my hand, a choir of angels in my head, I confessed to you that I never much cared for Frost, possibly both roads lead to an affair with me, time means little more than air, cotton candy fever dreams, melting wedding bands, a stain on your white dress, tender, torn up, seeing Jesus on the cross at 3 am, it's Tuesday, borders, lines, barriers, milk cartons, hamster wheels, the sun stayed away for fear of witnessing this itchy massacre, plans? I find them trite, quick to betray, overdrawn bank accounts, flat tires, 17-year-old quick ***** the wrinkles in the mirror, the road back home, detour, detour, going down south by way of 35, oceans of highways, shorelines of grief, steady shots of grace in the passenger seat, where have I smelled that before? Change your perfume, if I kiss you, it needs to be strange, frightening, splitting the seams of norm skull and disemboweling the sanctity of routine, it's easy to put up the picket fence, easier yet to paint it black, but behind the curtains of my .32 caliber grin, lies a quivering child waiting for ma to get off work, babysit me, hospital gowns, looking for lost blue crayons, the bouquet rots on the windowsill, remember the first kiss? Doped on caffeine, sleepless because Shorty partied too hard, tile floor, porcelain, your strapless top undressed itself, earthquake waltz, borderline insane, milk thistle, both roads lead to an affair with me.
Continue reading...
28
Jazz music and drunken slurs, Passing streetcars turn to blurs, Bite off more than you can chew, Seafood gumbo, thick brown roux, On shoulders sit sons and daughters, Ferry ships, Mississippi waters, Dancers dressed like voodoo queens, Clad in purples, golds, and greens, Yell, "Throw me something mister!" Flying beads barely missed her, Pralines, king cakes, and beignets, Maid of Muses smiles and waves, Rex, Zulu, Endymion, From Decatur to Bourbon, Floats, masks, a feather boa, Sweet iced tea, jambalaya, Big Easy on Fat Tuesday, Lent is just a day away.
0
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
L'anarchie Frénétique
Someone left a black leather briefcase at the bus station sometime earlier this week. They called in a bomb squad from over in Springfield after the thing sat there for hours emitting an aura of chilled sweat; it took them just as long to get their from what I've been hearing. They blew the thing up. Right there in the bus station, they blew that ****** briefcase to Hell and back after an X-ray found wires and a circuitry board. This is not a big city, it's not a small town either, but here we have a place that I arrive at twice daily getting pseudo-bombed and I can hardly scrape up the dollar for bus fare at times. A warehouse over on Jasper street caught on fire a few days later; an inferno in close quarters, so they knocked the old Bess over so the flames didn't spread. There is still a giant pile of rubble at the site; bricks with masonry companies imprint on the sides, rusty bars that were either too heavy, or too stuck for scrapping fiends, and a hell of a lot of odorous char.   This is a winter of fire in Decatur, but the bones still chill. The starter is going out in the 91' Cutlass that sits in my driveway braving the winds. I can hear that grinding noise; the expensive one. The one that says, "Your savings is low!" every time you think you're going to have a stable ride to work. The bus is reliable, the route is what will drive a sane man off the edge. You start to get sick of seeing the same ****** places, the same ****** turns, the same ****** bumps, and the same ****** passengers. Plus, the radio makes Monday just a little more tolerable when you get the option of stopping for breakfast. I like that car. Friday seems like a back brace right now, and I've had just enough caffeine to where I don't think I can stand a nap. I'm just glad to have my shoes off, and the reassuring calm of an uncashed check. I'm starving.
0
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 7:50 PM UTC
Decatur, A Kingdom in Six Parts, Part VI: Winter Doldrums and Bus Station Bombs
Someone left a black leather briefcase at the bus station sometime earlier this week. They called in a bomb squad from over in Springfield after the thing sat there for hours emitting an aura of chilled sweat; it took them just as long to get their from what I've been hearing. They blew the thing up. Right there in the bus station, they blew that ****** briefcase to Hell and back after an X-ray found wires and a circuitry board. This is not a big city, it's not a small town either, but here we have a place that I arrive at twice daily getting pseudo-bombed and I can hardly scrape up the dollar for bus fare at times. A warehouse over on Jasper street caught on fire a few days later; an inferno in close quarters, so they knocked the old Bess over so the flames didn't spread. There is still a giant pile of rubble at the site; bricks with masonry companies imprint on the sides, rusty bars that were either too heavy, or too stuck for scrapping fiends, and a hell of a lot of odorous char.   This is a winter of fire in Decatur, but the bones still chill. The starter is going out in the 91' Cutlass that sits in my driveway braving the winds. I can hear that grinding noise; the expensive one. The one that says, "Your savings is low!" every time you think you're going to have a stable ride to work. The bus is reliable, the route is what will drive a sane man off the edge. You start to get sick of seeing the same ****** places, the same ****** turns, the same ****** bumps, and the same ****** passengers. Plus, the radio makes Monday just a little more tolerable when you get the option of stopping for breakfast. I like that car. Friday seems like a back brace right now, and I've had just enough caffeine to where I don't think I can stand a nap. I'm just glad to have my shoes off, and the reassuring calm of an uncashed check. I'm starving.
Continue reading...
62
Lost in the fumes of a cloudy exhale I search for a glimpse of myself in grimy water. My remains are scattered somewhere between boyhood and gutter trash. The present is hardly of concern when the blankets of mud offer such astounding silence. This swamp was flooded with the prosperity of quitters. - The face of the street I grew up on has been radically warped and distorted. Leave a good thing to the elements long enough and you’ll see it begin to degrade. Dust gathers and mold begins to creep in from the moisture lingering in the air. It happens to our childhood toys just as easily as it happens to the people we know. - Everything still holds the same shape; the same structure that casts a shadow in memory, it’s just that now the cosmetics have worn off and you can see the tired lines start to show. You can hear the creak of arthritic wooden steps to front porches where old kin with liver spots sit and drink a shared Ice House 40 oz. while spitting into the wind. Cavities from a candy coated childhood. - There are strangers in my old home, that place where my uncle lives surrounded by VHS tapes, pictures of Brett Favre, and reminders of dead cockatiels. The biggest struggle is trying to recall if he was always this way, or did it take a forty year dope binge for the hoarder to finally stir? - I wrote my name in the sidewalk at the foot of steps. I search for a glimpse of myself in grimy water and check under the bushes for garter snakes . My stomping grounds have been wiped of footprints and grandma’s violets don’t come in very well anymore. They cut down the walnut tree, and got rid of the porch swing. No time for whimsy, no time for strays. The cicadas will sleep for ten more years, ‘til summer.
0
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 3:57 AM UTC
Decatur, A Kingdom in Six Parts, Part V: Green and University
Lost in the fumes of a cloudy exhale I search for a glimpse of myself in grimy water. My remains are scattered somewhere between boyhood and gutter trash. The present is hardly of concern when the blankets of mud offer such astounding silence. This swamp was flooded with the prosperity of quitters. - The face of the street I grew up on has been radically warped and distorted. Leave a good thing to the elements long enough and you’ll see it begin to degrade. Dust gathers and mold begins to creep in from the moisture lingering in the air. It happens to our childhood toys just as easily as it happens to the people we know. - Everything still holds the same shape; the same structure that casts a shadow in memory, it’s just that now the cosmetics have worn off and you can see the tired lines start to show. You can hear the creak of arthritic wooden steps to front porches where old kin with liver spots sit and drink a shared Ice House 40 oz. while spitting into the wind. Cavities from a candy coated childhood. - There are strangers in my old home, that place where my uncle lives surrounded by VHS tapes, pictures of Brett Favre, and reminders of dead cockatiels. The biggest struggle is trying to recall if he was always this way, or did it take a forty year dope binge for the hoarder to finally stir? - I wrote my name in the sidewalk at the foot of steps. I search for a glimpse of myself in grimy water and check under the bushes for garter snakes . My stomping grounds have been wiped of footprints and grandma’s violets don’t come in very well anymore. They cut down the walnut tree, and got rid of the porch swing. No time for whimsy, no time for strays. The cicadas will sleep for ten more years, ‘til summer.
Continue reading...
44
The Cathedral-Basilica of Saint Louis, King of France, now called St. Louis Cathedral in New Orleans was first built in 1718. They hand out glow-in-the-dark rosaries for Mardi gras so folks can find their way to Jesus in the dark. Come, pick your way through the park cross Decatur to drink coffee at Cafe DuMonde, have more beignets, trail powdered sugar and beads to stare the Old Man in his muddy eyes. Hanging ferns and foibles line balconies where voices speak but you cannot understand on Toulouse Street: you are but a traveler here even when you've walked these cobbled stones for twenty years. Bend warp and weave your dinner; string the lost beads to sell to the unsuspecting because anything goes and the party will go on anyhow. Beyond the sequined mask naught but hollowed eyes you do not want to see and that clown you laughed at, but did not pay juggles souls behind your back.
0
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 7:30 PM UTC
Vieux Carré
a token ring of Decatur still makes pie out of Roberta's hind quarter with Illinoisan slew by her delicate pastry and makeshift banana this creme du jour is a burden of the issue of clericalism
0
Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 10:28 AM UTC
spiny
I took a detour on Decatur Street for the rains washed away my worn trail. Smoking skeletons in alley ways, the visible breath of babies in sleet, and a burnt out apartment complex dotted the trek. I saw a ghost of you. Short red hair, eyelashes like vines crawling up sideboards in fast motion, the freckles on her face like islands floating in her milky skin. I wanted to pull your twin close. As if entwining with her, scraping off a pinch of her perfume, would bring me a few miles closer to you. I'd phone, but you'd just tell me about Paul. So, I send whiskey prayers and cigarette smoke signals to the heavens for your personal misery instead. I daydream of the torturous night shortening the distance. You offering up laughs of compromise, and I offering empty love to make your bed less lonely. I'd phone, but you'd just tell me about Paul. He's your man.
0
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 7:38 PM UTC
He's Your Man
The midway queen And her glossy posse Flutter in formation Up and down the B-29s and the AN-24s; On the prowl and on a mission To drop the bomb on Bobby As they swoop past his snow cone cart. They call themselves the Wing Women. They call themselves the Tail Gunners. They call themselves the Shotgun Girls, And there’s powder residue in their curls. Tail Gunners haunt the midway strip at twilight, Feasting on the fiddle music And old time pedal steel That haunt a country boy’s heart. But the sun has already checked out, Along with Bobby and his shop pals-- Slipped off in granddad’s Cadillac With a jug of John Henry And a bag of M-80’s Billy brought down from Decatur. They’ve headed for the low country; Toward the clinking of green glass, The hollering of the swamp hounds, And the flannel sheet warmth of the river folks. Back on the midway, Shotgun Girls peel off one by one Like petals from a flower, Pedaling back to rose scented spreads Garnished with chlorinated pools and garden parties. But the midway queen pilots on; Around the Stewart’s root beer stand, Through a cloud of Blazing Swine smoke, Past the kind-eyed ice cream lady, And into the seedy underbelly Where clown grins lurk behind balloon tosses And rebel flag trailer curtains lace the landscape. Understanding her defeat, The midway queen retreats To her own suburban sprawl, Places her crown on the dresser, And gazes through open windows Into her Georgia sky, Wondering what it’s like to be a constellation-- Wondering if constellations come up with five-year plans-- Wondering if she should do the same. The midway queen quivers In her new found old time way, And drifts off into a glassy sea Of crackling Tammy Wynette records And broken heart banquets.
0
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
The Midway Queen
The midway queen And her glossy posse Flutter in formation Up and down the B-29s and the AN-24s; On the prowl and on a mission To drop the bomb on Bobby As they swoop past his snow cone cart. They call themselves the Wing Women. They call themselves the Tail Gunners. They call themselves the Shotgun Girls, And there’s powder residue in their curls. Tail Gunners haunt the midway strip at twilight, Feasting on the fiddle music And old time pedal steel That haunt a country boy’s heart. But the sun has already checked out, Along with Bobby and his shop pals-- Slipped off in granddad’s Cadillac With a jug of John Henry And a bag of M-80’s Billy brought down from Decatur. They’ve headed for the low country; Toward the clinking of green glass, The hollering of the swamp hounds, And the flannel sheet warmth of the river folks. Back on the midway, Shotgun Girls peel off one by one Like petals from a flower, Pedaling back to rose scented spreads Garnished with chlorinated pools and garden parties. But the midway queen pilots on; Around the Stewart’s root beer stand, Through a cloud of Blazing Swine smoke, Past the kind-eyed ice cream lady, And into the seedy underbelly Where clown grins lurk behind balloon tosses And rebel flag trailer curtains lace the landscape. Understanding her defeat, The midway queen retreats To her own suburban sprawl, Places her crown on the dresser, And gazes through open windows Into her Georgia sky, Wondering what it’s like to be a constellation-- Wondering if constellations come up with five-year plans-- Wondering if she should do the same. The midway queen quivers In her new found old time way, And drifts off into a glassy sea Of crackling Tammy Wynette records And broken heart banquets.
Continue reading...
51
J'ai toujours sous la main Une ou deux molécules de ma muse effervescente, Sa poudrière et sa houppe pour le teint. Et quand vient le boléro de la migraine Et que l'hallali explose dans ma tête en pleine chasse à courre Et que c'est la curée chaude Je rappelle la meute des mots chiens et taureaux Et je transforme en plein couvent les kilomètres de petit-lait entier en fa dièse mineur De ma Decatur ecclésiastique En AOP. AOP, C'est Aspirine et Antimoine, Les deux vocalises de ma muse, Deux sœurs siamoises, Deux divas effervescentes de Cadix Que nul bistouri ne peut disjoindre Quand en duo, aveugles, elles dansent leur boléro dans un bain d'encre Allegretto con moto Au son des cors de chasse Au lieu des castagnettes. Ces deux divas sont une lettre d'indulgence, Un passeport incunable pour le paradis, Dont je suis l'enlumineur, le rubricateur, l'imprimeur, le relieur Et l'auteur. J'imprime à grand tirage leur psautier poisseux sur deux colonnes Et quarante deux lignes
0
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 9:00 AM UTC
Molécule de Muse
*The tawny autumn pastures of Whitehouse Home of Ozias , the graves of my kin Miller's Millstone and the Selfridge banks of Cotton Indian , Roseberry field , Wilson Chicks Farm , Camp creek and Berry Hill ... Candy beside Rabbit Rock , bicycles along Decatur Road , locks of honeysuckle , broomsage , parcels of soybean and sorghum , sweetcorn and home gardens .. Fiddlers *** along South rivers sandy banks and islands Yellow Perch , smallmouth , rock bass and calico*
0
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
My Childhood Home ..
Transatlantic feeling frantic on route to Milan to see a man To listen to sages and the academic elite talk of wormholes and conciousness beliefs Presentations and conversations by those at the top of their game But concentrate as she might long into the stary night the rhythm was always there.. Off again and on a plane over the North Sea Stronger and stronger the beat would wander into her dreams Touching land there he was his face as shocked as hers For both had been listening to nothing more than the music of their hearts Two years have past and governments and continents could no longer divide them So if you look in Atlanta Decatur you are now sure to find them Just ask anyone where is bongo Pete or just close your eyes at night Then follow the sound of the distant drumming, you will surely find them When you reach a blues joint look inside and there for all to see Now husband and Wife, and playing all night Mr and Mrs Lornie
0
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
When souls can't hide they collide
I want every account a appeal imma post my **** during a **** beach or **** march imma make an only fans imma **** outside imma rub my **** so my neighbor see so stop looking you bust a nut too Lock you away like me breakfast tucked hard **** What they feeding me Ask arnold an adam Video tape before video tape Blow my phone up stressing Didnt you just *** ur wife in the bedroom Catch me dead ****** imma erase you I got that mafia gang 100 million march **** Floyd my boi so i spoke Zacks a king type riot I make 8k a year audit me ***** Call a fed decatur already been overdose Moon lazor gun Kematite Worthy worthy king wife top my **** Naked **** a mansion Naked in a castle No little bitty Breakfast in bed **** a *** Gleyn oaks Charleston boodakey Lost count at infinite keys I built the 1st 1st highway amazon jungle 1st gas station diesel Bag chip radioactive Chrystal 1 gazzillion **** a movie 5 foot an taller then godzilla Bigger travel bags then king kong
0
Feb 21, 2024
Feb 21, 2024 at 8:59 PM UTC
"Every Connect Every Case Steel No Judge" By:Z