Jimmy told me to stop singing
That way
He sat beside me in the church choir
Not because he wanted to
But because he promised his momma
That he’d give church a try
He sang bass
Predictably
I sang tenor
Sometimes alto
I was 11
Jimmy was 18 maybe 19
Jimmy needed to be named Jimmy
Needed his truck
Needed his girlfriend
Needed to be handsome
Needed to be a good ole boy
Needed a great Friday night
Needed a great Sunday morning forgiveness
Every Jimmy in our town
Promised momma
They’d be in church come Sunday
As in every South Carolina town

Once I told Jimmy
That I admired him
I lied
I didn’t
But since I knew he didn’t care for me
I thought I’d let him know
That I didn’t think he was so bad
In my own way
He laughed and said
Oh you don’t want to be like me
He was right
I didn’t
He said
If anything, I want to be like you
He also lied
Southern gentlemen are so charming
I turned and walked away
Knowing that
I didn’t care that he didn’t like my voice
He didn’t care if I admired him or not
He and I were not destined to be friends
He and I sang in different sections of the choir
After all

Repeat Repeat Repeat
All agree it is needed
All agree it is wanted

Repeat Repeat Repeat
So who will lead it
Hello? Anyone? Crickets.

Repeat Repeat Repeat
To the rescue – To the rescue
Nope – Not today

Repeat Repeat Repeat
If indeed needed and wanted
Let the leaders rally

I’ll need a minute
To breathe in cool air

And this from time to time
To access beauty and meaning

So I’m not quiet
I’m reflecting

So, I’m not escaping
I’m surviving

I’ll need a minute
To breath in cool air

And this from time to time
To access grace and drive

So I’m not dying
I’m pausing

So I’m not finished
I’m regrouping

When the flags go up
I think of antennae and whiskers
Just makes me wonder
Do insects and animals hate them
Of course they are useful
They help protect and survive
But do you think there’s ever a moment
When they just want to turn it all off
Like today
I heard about a meeting that was taking place
It’s a meeting that probably should include me
But it doesn’t
And, mind you, I don’t want to go to the meeting
But, my spidey-sences tell me
That decisions in this area
Can’t be made without me
And will ultimately
Have to be run by me anyway
So do I say something
If I do, it will look like I’m insecure
Or worse…gasp…micromanaging
But if I don’t
I’ll be knowingly wasting everyone’s time
Plus, the one who is calling the meeting
Often races ahead though with a good heart
And is disappointed when we have to pump the breaks
So, I don’t know

It makes me think of antennae and whiskers
Every single time
Is there a way to just be left unsignaled
I’d love to be completely unaware
It’s exhausting

How long
Does the smell
Of smoke linger
After you’ve been
Through the fire
How long
Does the sting
Persist
In the eyes
How long
The tickle
In your throat
No doubt
That moment
Was swift
For you
Likely
You barely
Remember it
But for me
I still feel
The burn

Murky but not jagged
Damp but not drenched
It’s not good
I’m not going to lie
See every channel
Has limited access
Which isn’t the worst thing
But trapped
In the most brave
And thrilling
And gorgeous hold
Is still trapped
Which is the poverty
It is the end

I’m lonely and uninterested

And I know it’s only for a stretch

But there must be honesty

In these moments

And a deep deep breath

 

It’s the black that won’t disappear

The dark of smoke and mirrors

It’s the marker that can’t

Do a block of color clear

Without heavy lines and smear

 

It’s like one splice of your you

Is in a running car glued

With the garage door closed

And your eyes fixed ahead

In eternal park doomed

I just wait for time to pass
Like the homeless man on the stoop
Like the croc in the sun
Like the inmate void of appeals

On this bench
It’s so still and narrow
It is the hidden piece
Louder than the beat

My highs and lows
Moon-muted by the pills
Like screams within a dream
And a never-ending stutter

Bent with no touch
Blind marionettes no strings
The open-door thriller
Enticement times three
Stunt doubles placed and eager
To hunch and shelve the bee
To stay in wide-eyed proposal
Of never-never eventuality

When you never quite break through
There’s gravity left in your hunger
Dreams stand as steal-beam structures
Even through the ghost-town winter

Since clear success never hopped along
It might just be around the corner
Or perhaps you’re all washed up
Or a one-in-a-million one hit wonder

Be sure if your gut takes the wheel
Your drive will hunt the mother down
When the words finally frame your name
When the words align and whisper loud