Posted in Lies


bros yet to be pop culture contraction
not quite clergymen
poverty, chastity and obedience
obedience given and demanded.
Gold hearted. Iron fisted. Teachers of adolescent boys.

He was an anomaly
Mr amongst conferees
sir to his charges.
“ Sir,” as if born with title
in class, “ what is the coordinate value? ”
3y what? ”
“3y sirrrrr.”

Despite not being ordained
he was the only one who always began with prayer.
For some the self-consciousness of sensitivity
is never not
a bridegroom leading the first waltz
father in laws holding new borns
uncles at funerals.

Today at commencement prayer
the former army officer
is at loss
sternness momentarily without rank
he has a special intention
a pause.
Clouds drift. Time ticks. Paper rustles
as silent as a classroom can be
near magic offers excuse for confession.

A boy not much older than us
is to be sentenced today
a glass bottle thrown from a moving vehicle
struck a bystander – serious injuries.
The one probably to be jailed didn’t do it
the others in the car bible swore he did.



Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s