Author: crow

I'm a writer and a dabbler. I live in Southern California.

Poem 20150106

crow

after the fog lifted
we could see the damage
the car had done to the tree
struck a glancing blow
the tree lay on its side
uprooted
and fully intact
as if to protest its own doom
but the next day
city workmen
with chainsaws and wood chippers
reduced it to a noisy memory
the smell of resin
and a hole in the ground

Poem 20150105

crow

The coffin was too large for her
She lay there like a doll
Make-up that she could not apply
Not for the last few years
Rosy on her cheeks
Hair smooth and washed and clean

Her face but not her face

Mom had to be led away slowly
Sobbing how she looked so small
And the chapel seemed like a joke
Like a facade you would see
At Disneyland
Almost real but not just

The only thing that saved the day
Was the aunt who insisted on
Taking a flower from the grave
And almost fell into the gaping hole
Waiting to receive my grandmother

The opposite was true for his funeral

He was big even in the coffin
And they said
It would be closed
But it wasn’t at first
Even through the chapel doors
You could see him
And at any second he would sit up
And turn with his eyes glued shut
And his mouth plugged tight
And accuse
Announce his disappointment
From beyond the grave

Weeks later in a dream
He stood before me
Without a shirt
Standing for some reason
In his old apartment in Santa Ana
His stomach fish belly white
And covered in dark hair
A Y incision hastily sewn up
Over his chest

It was all a mistake he said

But I woke not knowing what he meant
And not believing him anyway

Poem 20150104

crow

in the car
the radio plays a beatles song
come together
and i sing along, loud
and risk a glance
you move your head
and toss your hair
but you don’t sing
even though you smile

i tell you some trivia
i learned as a kid
about the song yesterday
and it’s original title
scrambled eggs
because i like to look smart
around you

the familiar song on the radio
changes
there’s a bridge
where there shouldn’t be one
and i realize that this is a dream

i want the dream to stretch out
to see where i’m driving with you
but like a candle
the light flickers out
leaving smoke and the stink of burning
–the only evidence of the flame