Monday, October 29, 2012

The Eye of the Storm

And in years past things were pat and justified
Lined out, little soldiers all in a row, shooting blanks and bowing
But now, christ sake, look in their eyes and consider running
Or at least take a pull on the flask and taste the barrel
Pulling the trigger may be the best thing you've done all day
Short of telling me that I'm beautiful

Friday, October 19, 2012

Hoping to Count

In a wash of red orange light, with an audible buzz inside my head
I saw what lay in store for the world
And that I am not connected
Before you get down or curse my findings
You need to remember that you are everything
Not the result of everything
You can’t claim connection when you are the center
Of the one thing great, beauty is not your destination

Copyright 2012

Thursday, October 18, 2012

The Beet Widow

For IG's Out of Standard Challend on Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads.
With one tractor wheel hopelessly stuck in a blow out, he unwrapped the foil from his sandwich and put his feet on the dash and ate unfettered. In the glow of the radio light, he accompanied Waylon and Willie in twangy ham and cheese tones. Twelve miles from the house, he would be here through the night, but that was alright by him. He always had his sketch pad and his flask and in this case, something he had little of these days, time. Sitting in a million dollars worth of equipment, it still boiled down to a sandwich, Waylon and Willie and a working man’s hopes and dreams, but mostly the sandwich.

She hung up her cell phone and heaved a breathy sigh as she looked out the window toward the Lindsay’s northern most beet field.  But she couldn’t see him, he was too far out. He wouldn’t be back for breakfast, maybe lunch, but probably not.  She turned the heat up to seventy eight, not because she was cold, just because she could. She made some tea and sat wrapped in his Denver Broncos blanket on the front porch and wondered how things might have been different if he would have taken that job on the dairy farm in Phoenix, a little closer to civilization. That damned great horned owl was sitting on top of light pole scanning the grounds for another easy meal, two cats had gone missing already. It was definitely survival of the fittest out here when night fell.

He drifted to off to sleep with thoughts of fly fishing Montana and what his calves would bring at the auction.

She drifted off to sleep wondering when it would be a good time to tell he was going to be a father.

Neither of them could hear the flap of the wings and the almost silent kill as the cat population on the farm suffered yet another set back.
Copyright Corey Rowley 2012

Monday, October 8, 2012

Lessons In Brevity

 Lesson 1: Rabbit Punch 

I punch you in the face
Everyone knows I kicked your ass
But superficial wounds heal....quickly

I punch you in the kidney
And the effect lasts much longer
Blood in the urine, hitch in your....giddyup

I punch you with my words
And you run screaming my name
The world listens and you make me....famous

Lesson 2: The Flood

In the face of the flood
Only two male poets could be found
And ushered to the ark

They pretended to write beauty
But did they know of such things
Never having given birth

The world did the best they could
In light of the circumstances
After all, stars are beautiful too

Then she was born.....

Lesson 3: Review Senryu

review drips butter
on your firm, well rounded ass
slip, slap and giggle

Lesson 4: The Wolf

I take my steaming supper on a granite shelf
The same one your grandma kept her clown collection on
I invited you to join me but you insisted that you were a vegetarian
Last week I saw you eat a chicken feathers and all, still warm
Lying only prolongs the inevitable, two kids and an old woman
Tomorrow I dine by candlelight, on your still twitching carcass
Not the way I wanted to dine together sweetheart
But your coldness makes you.... the fourth pig

© 2010 Crowley