the body and mind will find other ways

fourteen years ago
at the birth of his
daughter
the wife made him swear before
the holy cross
that he’ll never touch
drink again
in his life

He kept the promise

Also
fourteen years ago
the wife made him swear
before the holy cross
that he’ll never
touch a slot machine or
a poker table in his life

He kept that
promise also

six years ago
the wife also made him
swear before the holy
cross
that he’ll never touch himself
again in his life

this had nothing to do
with keeping the family unit
together in a healthy way

it was only his wife’s
whim

she would not have
her daughter
provided for and educated
by a sinful man

He kept that
promise too

even though the wife
was as ungenerous as one
could be when it came
to taking care of his needs

copulating without the
aim of creating life
was a sin, of course. So it had
to be avoided

“Goddamit, Jesus! How d’ you keep
yourself sane livin’
like that?”
some of his coworkers had asked

They called him Jesus,
not because
he partook in his wife’s zealotry
but because he had
a hole in his left hand

right between the
bones of the middle and
ring finger

“They’re called metacarpal bones,” the
wife had said

She knew about the injury
and knew how he’d
made it

Dozens of times
she’d watched him insert
a thin, long knitting needle through that hand
and then pulling it backward
and pushing it forward
while moaning in pain

She respected and loved
him for the ritual

“Subjecting yourself to a fraction of
what He had gone through,” she’d said
in admiration. “Darling,
this is worthy of praise. Finally you’re
the man I wanted
you to be. A true man of
Christ!”

Indeed
she had that opinion
of him and his madness
and with her own madness
they formed the happiest Christian
family

She didn’t need to know
that the ritual
caused him to ejaculate, for the
body and mind will find
other ways to
get rid of excess seed
when the normal means are
blocked

and God didn’t need to
punish him
for he wasn’t
exactly touching himself

What doesn’t a man
do for his family?

Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "the body and mind will find other ways"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

birch trees

His was the only house
painted pink
in the whole neighborhood

It looked silly in the
warm season
and creepy in the cold

small trees dotted the front
and back yard
and further
beyond a forest began to
gain contours

It was a forest of
birch trees

and he visited it every time
the pink house
felt like it no longer wanted
him inside

and unfortunately that
was almost
every night

“I feel it in the vibration
inside the walls,” he said. “It’s
akin to a baby’s cries. She
doesn’t want me
here.
Never did want me here.”

He was talking about a daughter
who departed
some eight years ago
along with his wife

They wanted the house to
be painted pink
and he did it for them

It was one of the requests
they made while he
was sober

everything they asked while he
was sober was granted

problem was
they rarely caught him
sober

Soberness meant it was
time to talk about
all the
shit he’d done while drunk

so he’d drink some more
to forget
and then do
other stuff worth talking
about

One of the most
vicious circles in
reality

and the hardest to
break

“A circle only breaks when
there’s nothing
sustaining it,” he said to
the birch trees behind
the pink house. “And now
I am nothing.”

He walked up to one of the trees
and circled it with
his arms
and bit with his lips at
the few pieces of peeled bark
and closed his eyes

it was close enough to
hugging his
wife, for she was pale
and thin and bony
as the birch tree, and biting
the peeled bark
was close enough to
biting her hair and…

Well, better not to think
about it

Better to just ask
how in the hell did he hug
the tree in
daytime
and closed his eyes
and when he opened them
again
it was nighttime

What the hell was
this birch tree magic?

He went back to
the pink house
and sobered up

Swore to himself that
he’ll never get
drunk again

and opened
another bottle of vodka
to celebrate that

Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "birch trees"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

getting metaphysical

there’s gotta be
some kind of metaphysical
lesson here, he
thought as
he turned away from her
in bed
and got slapped on the face
and had to turn
right back
and hold her in his arms

no exchange of
words between them

It’s been only a few months, perhaps
three or four, since
he broke into her
car
and stole her backpack with
money and her ID
and books and other stuff,
and returned it to her door
the next day

Pretending he was
this hero
who brings back the stolen goods

“A guy tried to sell me
these books to
get money for meth,” he said
when he gave it back

and from one word to another
the hero
eventually invited the
damsel in distress to dinner
and from then on
they became
a couple

“Know what you want in life
and go after it,” his
father would’ve said

It made sense, but…

attaining the object of one’s
desire
certainly isn’t always
a good thing

If we’re to get really
metaphysical here, people
are nothing more
than children in the grand scheme of
things

and children sometimes
desire to touch the hot stove
or to lick at the
blue flames thinking they’re cold

We think that the
fulfillment of one’s wish
translates into happiness

we’re so
damn wrong, aren’t we?

“Did you remember to set the
alarm for 6:30 AM?” she asked
in the darkness

“Sure,” he said.

“Good. Now squeeze me tighter. And don’t
let go even as you fall asleep or
I’ll slap you again.
Gods, love, sometimes I think you’ve
the mind of a child.
Why else won’t you understand that
the right dreams
come only as I’m being held tight,
squeezed in a man’s arms.
This night
the spirit guardian is going to
reveal to us
what grave to dig on the morrow. So
squeeze me right
while I tune in to hear, okay?”

“Uh… Right. Good night, love.”

“Good night.”
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "getting metaphysical"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

swineherd

after 22 years
he returned to
his old town

I was just a kid
when he left
so
I didn’t recognize him

but some of the older guys
were quick to
offer him a
drink

“Who’s he?” I asked

and the only answer I got
was
“Swineherd.”

They called him
the swineherd

He was an okay
fellow

knew a few bar tricks
and showed us all his
glass eye
and the hole it covered

shit looked like
a butthole when
he removed that thing

He spoke about how good it
was to be back
and the guys asked him
if he’s gonna
swineherd again
and they all laughed together
like it was the
craziest
inside joke ever

I went home drunk
that night
and it was the kind of
drunk that doesn’t provide
inspiration

So with nothing
to write about
I checked out some random
news on my feed

One title caught
my eye

FARMER ARRESTED AFTER
BEING CAUGHT
TRANSPORTING COCAINE LODGED
INSIDE PIGS’ ANUSES

Hmm…

Well, I’ll be damned

Suddenly
I knew what to write about
and got to it
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "swineherd"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

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