Daily Archives: July 7, 2022

The Professional

That man talks
like he ate
a fake newspaper
Is shitting out
a correction but afterward
can’t get himself quite clean

As if he swallows
lawsuits for the mob
the way
other men
eat swords for fun
and money

As if he was just served
a subpoena written 
in acid on leather
Chewed it real slow
Coughed it out
soaked in bile

As if he can smell
the white stench 
upon which he hangs
his every word
but to him
it smells 

like roses
grown
in dank soil 
piled high over
fresh 
enemy graves


Emigration

Edging closer
to a border
than you thought
you would or could.

Fear inside
rising slowly
about how it 
might be necessary
or even exciting
to make this move
you swore you could
never make.

That is no
promised land
on the other side,
and you know it.

Yet you are standing
closer to the border
than you ever have
looking toward
the grey-green of
those far hills.

You imagine one day
having gained
enough comfort
to go trekking
carefree through those hills
with a basket
of good cheese
and bread, perhaps 
wine for the end
of the journey.

You take a step
not over,
but toward.