I wrote the first poem during my poetry class in the fall of 2018, when my stepdad was showing mild signs of (read: successfully hiding) having dementia . The second one is more recent. This is me coming to terms with shit through poetry.
Category: Memories
Didn’t We Fly
didn’t we fly
that chill autumn day
escaped from apple picking
to smoke secret cigarettes in the woods
on a rough dirt road to nowhere
when a half dozen boys
came on rumbling bikes
asked if we wanted
to go for a ride
we should have known better
and run for our lives
but we grinned at each other
and got on behind
and didn’t we fly
didn’t we fly
with the wind in our hair
and the sky whirling by
trailing shrieking laughter
my cheek pressed against
his warm farm boy back
arms holding tight
like I was in love
maybe just for that moment I was
didn’t we fly
didn’t we fly
that chill autumn day
now I’m older and wiser
and you’ve gone away
but I will always remember you
and that perfectly dangerous
beautiful day
didn’t we fly?
For Dawn Davis
Demon Spawn: April Fool’s Edition
This is probably one of the more disturbing stories from my childhood. But it’s also pretty funny. Disturbingly funny.
Goodbye Home
I had a dream before you died
your house became a maze.
The walls had owls with yellow eyes.
We tried to find our way outside
but all the doors and windows
had somehow disappeared. Continue reading “Goodbye Home”
Going into hibernation
It was a very eventful fall for me and my family.
Continue reading “Going into hibernation”
Year of the Hot Dog
Once a year or so
we traced mailbox letters,
traipsed turkey-scented hallways,
bore holiday bags and boxes
to dark doorways in strange buildings
where Mom tentatively knocked.
Continue reading “Year of the Hot Dog”
Flood
That night we drove down
a seemingly familiar street
that came to a sudden end
in a pool of darkness,
the weak beams of the headlights
no match for the swallowing void. Continue reading “Flood”
Violation: A Poem
Violation
At eleven, I didn’t have the word to describe it.
I didn’t have the right words to tell, either.
So when I tried to ask for help
I got an eye-roll that said boys will be boys.
Continue reading “Violation: A Poem”
Fast Food: The Team
At all the restaurants where I worked, most of the time we really did function like a team. Sometimes it was a team of miscreants if we didn’t get along with management or had to deal with difficult customers, but still…when it came to moving customers through the line and filling orders, everyone did their part.
Aside from the shared goal of “Get the customer in, fed, and back out the door,” there was an unspoken agreement I quickly picked up from my restaurant peers. In a nutshell, it was “Do your job, don’t interfere with anyone else’s job, and MYOB.”
Fast Food
I just went through eight hours of management training (which wasn’t so bad, surprisingly), and some of the activities required me to go tripping down memory lane to jobs I’ve had in the past.
All through my undergraduate years, I worked in fast food. I probably shouldn’t name the names of the places for fear of being sued, but one of them was THE fast food place, then there was one of the big-time pizza places, and finally there was one of the big-time ice cream places.
While some of my coworkers were high school or college students, some were career fast foodies. There are some really interesting characters in fast food. Some of the managers were awesome, and some were asshats. It’s about like anywhere else I guess, but then again, in some ways it’s not.
The customers are one way it’s not. While working in an office gets boring sometimes, I will say I am thankful for one major feature of office work: The door. Anyone, and I do mean anyone, can walk into a fast food place.
Dreadful Ideas 