Poems
by R. Gerry Fabian
Required Resume
I was an outcast as a child
because I couldnt pronounce my rs.
It left me on the outside.
I formed bonds with animals unlike the others.
Skunks, spiders and weasels
became firm friends.
It was a label that became an association
that became a lifestyle.
I was always two steps behind or
three years ahead.
My people were Military Service people
so I was always an accent behind.
In Virginia, I was California;
in Canada, so southern with Yank
as a bitter irony.
Philadelphia found me with an aye
at then end of each sentence.
Ive associated so long with the underdog
that when I put my attic life
into a mild semblance of respectability
I naturally became a poet.
Do Not Enter - Exit Only
A highway child -
As a traveler, she wore her cloak too well.
Her secrets formed a one-way street to the end.
Dead End.
And even now
the white lines blur.
Someone
contemplates her ghostly path,
ignores the yellow caution signals,
refuses to read the warnings,
exceeds the limits.
If nothing else
may these words be a roadmap
to indicate a detour
or offer the exit
she never found.
Cutting Ties
He rubs his gnarled hands together reaching for the thermos.
Pouring hot coffee into the faded plastic cup top,
he hears winter winds blow across the site.
Taking a careful measured sip,
he daydreams about the July shore vacation
and the crabbing.
The hot sun, two bottles of chilled beer
in the cooler with a ham spread sandwich in tin foil.
A small smile breaks across his ice chapped lips
as he remembers buying the crab keeper.
So much money they didnt have
and she railing and ranting at the extravagance.
Still have that keeper. His mind confirms.
The kid comes back in after his cigarette - ready to go.
As he slowly rises, his knee screams in shooting pain.
Cut six boards to length, he tells the kid.
Its time to let him nail.
Damn kid.
It is obvious to everyone except the kid.
He thinks of slowly pulling the crab cages
out of the warm bay water.
His knee starts to buckle and he smacks it into place.
Prepared for this pain, he only winces.
A week, maybe two at the most.
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