Sorry for ignoring you, blog... poem babies?

Okay so it was not the first time I received some sort of Jesus pamphlet while waiting on line at Bergen Regional for my happy pills.  This one was fun... so I tried to write about it:


On the pamphlet I found on line at the crazy house pharmacy:


Heart trouble disease
and its cure

The damaged organ
is the soul
and the disease is sin.

Jesus is the cure.

I imagine a holy
glowing fist
clenched in my chest.

But when I kiss
your stomach
and the sin of it

washes over me

It does not tighten,
nor turn black like ashes,

It opens.


~



Keeping Secrets


...Lavender in the underwear drawer.

Wearing those panties,
the lace that was no protection.

The panic attack
in the car
on the drive home.

The deer's eyes,
reflecting headlights,
mirror-like
and bumbling

Thoughts exploding in blood
and glass shattering,
metal bending and flesh compressed
into the unsuspecting
telephone pole.

(You didn't ask for a call,
making sure I was safe at home in bed,
hand down my pants
and thinking of you...)

There's inexplicable heartbreak,
I mean a heart, broken,
tangled in the carburetor,

A combustion oven flattened,
no longer expanding --
saying Go.

A deafening and then an
obliterating silence.

My body tossed 100 y
through a windshield,

to a godless and crimson heap.