Curls and Misdemeanors

He had Jesus on his right shoulder
and four cards up his sleeves,
marijuana leaves in the glove department
and a burned notebook of dreams.
He loved things in a particular order—
his mother, his pit-bull; whiskey.
His friends came and went,
but the important thing was that
he was loyal to the idea of loyalty,
and camaraderie; I think they knew it.
Most distinctly, he had a laugh
you could hear for miles.
It traveled exactly as far as the county line,
never more or less than that.
He baked your bread and fried your steak,
unless, of course, he stayed in bed too long
and was consequently fired that day.
In which case you would have to wait
until tomorrow to be fed.

Then there was the way
his mischief hid in his hair,
misdemeanors hanging in
the bitter-sweet tangles that
left me absolutely desperate.

Reviews

[Wulfstan Crumble]

That was a lovely poem. It joyfully describes a man, be he husband or father, who causes mischief and pleasure; maybe a little trouble too. Though, it begs the question, who is he? The exact role or nature of the man is absent, do we imagine a lover or a father? Otherwise it is a perfectly joyful poem.

[Leah T]

beautiful! i love how it's a portrait. i feel like i understand what type of guy this was, i even got a visual picture in my head. the language was profound but not dense.

[Nykkiicia Cion]

explain?