trench holes

to my friend, an ex-marine with medals

 

sometimes I see an old picture of dogs playing poker
in some out of the way place - their faces scowling,
concealing cards - and I think of you,
your faded green table trimmed in silvered steel,
discarded light bulbs and rotting vegetables cleared
for a Friday night game while the dogs play
their own game, framed on the nicotine walls just above
your gallon of Five High

there was a stoop outside of your apartment
all week you gave us candy and courted
the stray women on their way uptown
many of us stopped to tell stories, though you had
plenty of your own, but we were young, and more
intent on talking and you were one of the few
adults we knew who liked to listen

weekends our parents pulled us inside and your stride
on the open street was full of falls and curses -
the women, w****s, the children, yard apes and hopeless -
as all Saturday night the neighbors raged disgust
the landlord threatening a Monday morning eviction,
until Monday morning itself when you would emerge
to sit jovial on the stoop, speaking soft and humble
into the cool flat light of daybreak

Reviews

[arbitrary jane]

i've read this now, approximately 12 times... and it rolls more deeply every time. all the incarnations of him, all the battles underneath. they are told here even as they aren't told at all. it is a true, and significant photograph.
i feel somehow better for knowing him.

[Axolotl1]

this poem flows so beautiful:)

[Jeff Loquist]

thank you for telling his story..these are th ones deserving

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Karma works both ways... be selfless and you will have all you need... greed leads to emptiness.

[.......]

I like this, you have said a whole mouth full here,
I can feel this and feel the truth in this.
So nicely written and said!

[W.k.kortas]

Amen, Mr. Hart, amen.

[Ed Hart]

i can't imagine a better monument than a poem by phibby