I've taken the road of manhood
and gripped the pavement of success,
trying my hardest, not to fall off.
Already the truck of failure
has come barreling down at me,
but somehow, I've been able to avoid it.
I've sometimes wished I could do a U-Turn,
and find security again in my mother's womb,
but some unknown force keeps
drawing me forward,
helping me find my way to independence.
Maybe that force is the gasoline of life,
which all the people of my past have fueled.
If so, thank you for keeping me in gear
so I can keep driving
to achieve my life goals.
are a dime a dozen
on certain days
when you get
for the same price
you've never tasted
and when you
chew on that last bite
Kevin E. LeMaster
South Shore, KY
RELINQUISHING THE POET’S TIES
(For John Engle: 9-29-22 to 6-6-06)
Even these strips of cloth he spurned
fall inevitably into anapest before they leave
the realm of his tender influence.
They lie now in a scan of short and long
on a heap of formal suits he long ago rejected
for treebark familiarity of tweed.
Donating his disregarded neckties to Goodwill
should not add to my anguish; his only tolerated tie
went with him to the flames, a clip-on he clipped off
as soon as he accepted the award, served on
the panel…read before the audience he
cherished soul by soul. If I open this black box
the size of two stacked bricks
I can search his ashes
for a little molten metal clip-on clump
as enduring as a word he’d use
to turn a sift of ordinary syllables
into root-regenerating loam.