Old Man’s Face
The old man’s face creases like crumpled paper.
There are words between the lines
but they make no sound when read. The smell
of salt. The taste of cologne and feces. His hands
scrape your arm like fingers on stained glass
as he tries to catch your attention. I am that man.
This is my face, dripping hairs, graying
in the fading light. Delilah couldn’t bring me
to the library anymore. Delilah won’t
save me. She’s got to take the kids to soccer. I
am not that man. How could I be?
The long end of day stumbles just
as it crests the hill for all to see. I am not
dead. I will not die. There’s too much to do.
Delilah, forgive me all my foolish trespasses,
the time I farted in bed and held the covers over
your head. The skin of my face doesn’t hang, it
expands, balloon-fat and soft. It fills with helium
so my thoughts drift ever upward.
Willpower
The shrink asked if I knew who I was, how I got
there, so I gave directions but couldn't remember
the exit off I 40. He said a quarter
of patients commit suicide immediately
after receiving their test results,
another 6 percent in a few months. Most
drop out before getting results, many die
from drunk driving, drug use,
etc. He asked if I had suicidal thoughts, I said
no, not anymore. When I was
younger, but I walked away from those
like that time I came to visit, when
we were still dating; I left Greg sitting
in his Bronco at the airport breathing in
the smell of my last cigarette, watching me
distance myself from cheap deaths, theatrics,
simplicity.
CL Bledsoe is the author of the young adult novel, Sunlight, two poetry collections, _____(Want/Need), and Anthem, and a short story collection called Naming the Animals. A poetry chapbook, Goodbye to Noise, is available online at www.righthandpointing.com/bledsoe. A minichap, Texas, was published by Mud Luscious Press.He’s been nominated for the Pushcart Prize 3 times. He blogs at Murder Your Darlings, http://clbledsoe.blogspot.com Bledsoe has written reviews for The Hollins Critic, The Arkansas Review, American Book Review, The Pedestal Magazine, and elsewhere.
Showing posts with label CL Bledsoe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CL Bledsoe. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Thursday, February 25, 2010
CL Bledsoe - Two Poems
Grievances
Your body is a drug, and now that I’ve had a taste,
I’m addicted to your warmth. Remember
when we used to share my twin bed, you
mashed into the wall, me, on your head,
snoring. I made piles of the books
I read each month and tried not to drop
out of the world. You shared
an apartment with a gospel singer
named Princess, made things to eat I still
can’t spell, and tried not to cough
when I stood under the oven vent to smoke.
You’ve never forgiven the fact that I deleted
the first messages you sent me because I didn’t
know who you were. Now, I know:
you are warm, and you are quick.
I’m slow and wear socks to bed. But I did
your dishes, those first few times I came to visit.
Remember that, if nothing else.
Mike’s Room
Two months wasted at college brought my brother
back to work long hours in the Fish Shack, filleting,
dicing, however you please. He covered the wood
paneling of the converted garage with posters
of the Guess Who, Mountain, shelves lined
with boxes of 8-tracks, stacks of albums, piles
of cassettes threatening to topple. A wonderland
of baseball cards and 70s comic books. He lay
in his giant bed, listening to:
The Who: Live at Leeds
Cream: Live Volume 2
Jethro Tull: Original Masters
and dreamed of being a drummer, touring
Monterey, the Isle of Wight.
On long drives he quizzed me on FM music until
I learned Page and Blackmore, Kay from Burdon.
“Listen,” he’d say, shushing me for a solo
and then dissecting it afterwards. He devoured
Destroyer serials, quoted Mark Twain and Mel
Brooks, action movies and Shakespeare. “Remember”
he’d say: “No matter where you go, there you are.”
CL Bledsoe is the author of two poetry collections, “_____(Want/Need)” and “Anthem.” A third collection, “Riceland,” is forthcoming later this year. His web-chapbook, Goodbye to Noise, is available online from Right Hand Pointing and a mini-chap, “Texas”, is forthcoming from Mud Luscious Press. CL Bledsoe is an editor for Ghoti Magazine. He blogs at Murder Your Darlings, http://clbledsoe.blogspot.com.
Your body is a drug, and now that I’ve had a taste,
I’m addicted to your warmth. Remember
when we used to share my twin bed, you
mashed into the wall, me, on your head,
snoring. I made piles of the books
I read each month and tried not to drop
out of the world. You shared
an apartment with a gospel singer
named Princess, made things to eat I still
can’t spell, and tried not to cough
when I stood under the oven vent to smoke.
You’ve never forgiven the fact that I deleted
the first messages you sent me because I didn’t
know who you were. Now, I know:
you are warm, and you are quick.
I’m slow and wear socks to bed. But I did
your dishes, those first few times I came to visit.
Remember that, if nothing else.
Mike’s Room
Two months wasted at college brought my brother
back to work long hours in the Fish Shack, filleting,
dicing, however you please. He covered the wood
paneling of the converted garage with posters
of the Guess Who, Mountain, shelves lined
with boxes of 8-tracks, stacks of albums, piles
of cassettes threatening to topple. A wonderland
of baseball cards and 70s comic books. He lay
in his giant bed, listening to:
The Who: Live at Leeds
Cream: Live Volume 2
Jethro Tull: Original Masters
and dreamed of being a drummer, touring
Monterey, the Isle of Wight.
On long drives he quizzed me on FM music until
I learned Page and Blackmore, Kay from Burdon.
“Listen,” he’d say, shushing me for a solo
and then dissecting it afterwards. He devoured
Destroyer serials, quoted Mark Twain and Mel
Brooks, action movies and Shakespeare. “Remember”
he’d say: “No matter where you go, there you are.”
CL Bledsoe is the author of two poetry collections, “_____(Want/Need)” and “Anthem.” A third collection, “Riceland,” is forthcoming later this year. His web-chapbook, Goodbye to Noise, is available online from Right Hand Pointing and a mini-chap, “Texas”, is forthcoming from Mud Luscious Press. CL Bledsoe is an editor for Ghoti Magazine. He blogs at Murder Your Darlings, http://clbledsoe.blogspot.com.
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