“Holidays”
A single clementine on the dining room
window sill. Peanuts in a bowl. I was already
drunk at midnight, coals in the smoker, preparing
to smoke ham hocks for the New Year’s Day
hoppin’ john, the smell drifting into the old
drafty windows. I turned back to grab the can
of Pabst. The blue ribbon beer. A woman in
my bed waiting. I was compelled to drink more,
admiring the scent of pork smoking in hickory.
This morning, I eat a ripe pear off a blue plate,
listening to Ry Cooder sing sad songs about cars.
“Past Life”
For Jason
In my past life, I was a volcano. In my next life,
I will be a great ornament of the world,
as I lie breathing fire, wielding a paper knife.