That little pink blanket

That little pink blanket




My life has been defined by that little pink blanket
That little pink blanket they wrapped Attie in
The day she was born
That little pink blanket that she carried around every day
Until she was three
That little pink blanket that sits in her hope chest, has defined my life
She carried that little pink blanket to preschool
Then put it away,
My little angel Attie
My life has been defined by that little pink blanket
She kept until her pillow until
She was thirteen
She carried her baby dolls in that little pink blanket
And she wrapped her baby cousin in that little pink blanket
When she watched her for the week her Aunt was in
Paris
That little pink blanket was something old
When I gave her away wearing her mother’s
Pink wedding dress
That little pink blanket
Has defined my life
Ever since they wrapped my little Attie in it,
Moments after her mother died

A kiss and a cigarette

A kiss and a cigarette




Cut this rancid heart from my chest
Pull it from it’s root
Where it lingers to long on her
Where it brings back all of those sins
And beats them into my head
Cut these putrid memories from my skull
Pull them loose from my spinal cord
And strip the thoughts that are left behind with a
Razor blade if the need is there
And leave these old thoughts in my hand
To keep the thoughts from creeping back
All of the dreams left as nightmares
And all the children that were stillborn
And turn my life into some old black and white movie
Where all the violence takes place out of the scene
Drain this soured blood from my veins
Suck every drop from my bones
And leave nothing but the dust of failure in the place
And leave me with nothing but
this little yellow bastard on my back

My Shadow and her

My shadow feels like it weighs five hundred pounds
as I drag it along on the ground
and the hot sun beats down on my face and makes me
feel like the hot asphalt
in the parking lot beside the beach
this stretch of beach where we use to sneak out to at
night
and make love in the sand
and sleep here with the water lapping at our feet
until the dawn came up behind us
and she use to say I was so crazy
sitting here at the beach all day
but still she came down here every day with me
and always pulled me close when the other girls in the
tiny little suits
walked by and flashed that smile my way
and she use to say she wasn’t jealous but she never
left my side
here on the warm sun drenched beach
looking out into the Gulf of Mexico
my shadow feels like it weighs four hundred pounds as
I drag it along
and think of that day
she was singing “the elephant song” that she had made
up
and could never get out of her head
well I stand here with my feet in the sand
and shaking thinking of her
pulling her top off for the first time
and running to the water, looking back at me
and her shorts coming off there where the water was
hitting her feet
and I think back to that day
when she told me about how she hates black people
and how it was her family that taught her
but she didn’t want to hate like that, but she didn’t
know
how to change
and my shadow feels like three hundred pounds, as I
drag it along the sand
and I can see the drugstore up on Gulfview Drive that
we use to go to
where she first kissed me outside the front door
and I can see the spot at the edge of the beach where
only a few small tufts of grass
separate the sand and the concrete
where she sat in my car
with her hands down my pants
that first time, and she was still in her schoolgirl
dress
that she had ran straight her to see me in after she
skipped class
my shadow feels like it weighs two hundred pounds as I
drag it along the waters edge
and I look out across the city as the light of day
starts to fall
and I turn my back on that sunset that we use to watch
together
and I look into the city where we use to roam the
streets together at four in
the morning
looking for an open store to buy another pack of
cigarettes
and sit and smoke them together in the dark front seat
of my car
sitting down by the beach
and it was always someone like her that I dreamed of
someone like her that I needed to keep me safe from
myself
my shadow feels like it weighs a hundred pounds as I
drag it over her grave

The touch of a precious child

The touch of a precious child




I keep all of those moments running in my head
Some nightmare that keeps replaying
I pulled the nightshift
All the freaks were out
A high speed chase across town
Then a meth lab in olde town
Same shit as other nights
Just piling up quicker tonight
Ellen was at the mall
Doing that without the kids Christmas shopping
Mom had Jimmy and Sue
Fire up the lights a pimp on 5th and Holland was beating his
Girl
A drunk drive on Lexington Drive
And a domestic disturbance in the Heights
Rich people fight too
Six A.M. and I am punching out
Headed home
Twenty miles out where my kids are safe
Come through the door
Ellen runs to kiss me
And pulls me to the bedroom
To show me her Christmas finds
Leave my rig on the kitchen table
And my keys on the counter
The kids and mom are still asleep
Ellen smiles as she drags out the bags
Tonka trucks and Barbie dolls

KaBANG
The run shakes and the walls vibrate


I keep all of those moments running in my head
Some nightmare that keeps replaying
Been fifteen years and Ellen is remarried
And I sit here with this bottle in my hand
And my gun to my head
Then my Sue calls
She has a truck for Jimmy’s birthday
Do I want to go with her to the cemetery?

Angelic whore in my bed

Angelic whore in my bed




Something about the way she opens the window
I found her high heels on my library floor
And her clothes in the hallway
She must have came through the curtains without much
on
All that is lying here
Is her coat and underwear?
It sure is suspense
As I walk up the stairs
Looking at all of the pretty dresses she has left
there
On the steps the times before
And the panties and bras that are there
Her whole wardrobe must be lying on my floors
She never uses my front door
She always comes in on the second floor
And never uses the balcony doors
Comes through the library window
Or through the one in my study
When I have fallen asleep at my desk
But when I wake up I always know
The window is open and I can smell her
Lingering in the air
Around my desk and chair
And I always think about the way she opens a window
Curtains pulled closed and the window slid open only
enough
To fit her five foot five body through
With her size zero waist and c cup breasts
I am always amazed at how small that opening is
And I walk through the halls and rooms
Picking up the clothes she has left and sniff her
scent briefly
And discard it back where she left it
And trail into my bedroom
Where she lies naked on my bed
Same as the night before
And same as the night before
And same as every night since I bought this house
And I have never asked her anything
She comes quietly and goes just the same
I just sit her in this high back Queen Anne chair
Looking at her wondering where she comes from and why
she always leaves her clothes
And I fall asleep like the night before
Same as the night before
And the night before
And every night since I bought this house