welcome home killer…

carnivore

told him right off
i was sorry, but had
to ask anyway.
he replied that he didn’t
mind. of course, he
couldn’t promise an
answer & as always
lived up to his word.

why was it always
the same?
maybe it was personal;
i didn’t know him
well enough to push
it any farther.

instead we traded
numb-stone drinkin’ stories
& talked ’bout how
a lie given away like
off-season halloween candy
could be everything
explained to everyone,
‘cept when it wasn’t or
didn’t.

mostly i listened.
he’d slur-talk, pausing
those vicious pulls off a
cheap bottle of wine to
tell dirty jokes, or sometimes
about his travels between
here n’ there. sounds of
wine sloshing around the
bottle mixed with his voltaic
cursing about this or that.
bloodshot eyes spoke of
punctuated frustrations;
whenever it got better
it would get worse.

when i asked him what it
all meant, he looked straight
through me, adding laughter
in with an occasional wine
belch.

“remember how long it took
for any of this shit to make
sense to you? you’re still
playing pretend but i couldn’t
do it anymore.”

the bum could always find the
way to slice open a belly on
his way out. all i could give him
back was pablum about how
logical it sounded. by then,
we were so trashed i doubt he
heard a damned word.

i passed out & woke up back
where i’d started; a clean-clawed
rapacious carnivore looking for
explanations & breakfast,
finding only platters of bacon
n’ eggs.

—————————————-

For Hart Crane. Sorry it was so long. (That’s a lie & distinctly NOT a double entendre.) You gave what you had & that I admire. (That’s true.)

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12 Responses to “welcome home killer…”

  1. Scent of my heart Says:

    looking for
    explanations & breakfast,
    finding only platters of bacon
    n’ eggs.

    At least there was a breakfast …

    explanations might come later …

    Hope all is well your end!

    • Apologies for being in & out lately; been one of those just totally off the rails kind of month so far. At any rate, thanks much for the kindness & back atcha. Take care,

      crb.

  2. love good endings…

    A++

  3. Ditto Blaga …

    A poet and a Brooklyn girl too, I always particularly liked Crane’s “To Bridge.”

    Can’t help but wonder what he’d have done if he wasn’t such a heavy-duty drinker. But you are right. He did give us what he had. And that’s enough.

    Good work.

    • Thanks Jamie. “The Bridge” struck me as such a positive stance towards modernity coming from a split-personality poet such as Crane. I got to thinking about your question vis a vis his small body of work. Do you think it is equally valid to ask if he would have written as well without the booze? Certainly there is reason to believe that his drinking was intimately linked to his feelings of despair regarding his homosexuality; does it not also stand to reason the poems he did write were also linked to his lifestyle? Just food for thought. The same questions have been long asked of HST & the like; I am not sure what the answer really is except to say wherever it comes from we can only get as much as they can give. That’s a lot of weight to put on anyone but a valid question to ask nonetheless. Anyhow, sorry to run on, but appreciate the visit & the compliment. Take it easy,

      crb.

  4. rich words my friend.. thank you for sharing this.. try mine- http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2011/03/08/nectar-from-heaven/

  5. Jessica Says:

    Another great little story, I like the picture you paint of the characters in your poems. Maybe write them into prose one day?

    http://jessicasjapes.wordpress.com/2011/03/07/sweet-pleasure/

  6. This gave an insight of his life!
    The story you told- I am beginning to wonder how vividly you have put across.. But that’s how you always weave these!!

    All’s well at might excepting more brooding about how things are at my end- not so conducive.. That’s how Life has been so far- unsettled n highly unsettling too 🙂

    Wishing you a nice one
    Hugs xoxox

  7. With your poems, you fill my mind with intriguing food for thought! (pun)
    “whenever it got better
    it would get worse.” — loved that bit! Somehow it seemed to make oodles of sense in this poem…

    I am OFFICIALLY your fan, CRB.. your deep-rooted thinking and powerful writing really rock!!

  8. I dig the word “conflummoxed” though I found out it is really not a word lol, but I like it…lol it defines in my view to be confused, left askance, puzzled lol

    That is the word that came to mind upon reading this one. Lol. I think I may get a part of this.

    As a stand alone without the byline/sideline notes, I take it from the view of a vet, or an abuser or someone who does things that leaves him wondering why he even does it but still continues to do it. Why the afterthought though?

    From the point of view of the other character, whom it reads has come to acceptance…even pointing that the other is in denial ““remember how long it took
    for any of this shit to make
    sense to you? you’re still
    playing pretend but i couldn’t
    do it anymore.”

    Now if I throw in H.C into the mix, as a homosexual who lived a life of denial, then it points to him seeking “kills, new bodies, sex” with boys but asks why, still is in denial…blah blah blah

    it’s taken me several days to ponder this one CRB…lol

    either way…about someone who goes for the kill, fills up yearnings but is in denial as to who he is…he may know but may be slow to accepting who he is 🙂

    guess I had too much sleep or something lol..happy thursday, smooches!

  9. Visited your blog post through Delicious. You already know I am signing up to your rss.

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