Wayne F. Burke- Three Poems

Wife-Beater

the jail cell was thin and

long;

I sat at one end

and a wife-beater

at the other.

The wife-beater paced the floor

back and forth;

he was tall and thin and had crazy eyes;

whenever he came near

I stared him down.

I wondered if I would

have to beat on him:

maybe that was why

they put me in there.

I did not care who he had beat;

I had no opinion on his case;

hell,

I wasn't even married.

Same Oh

got a break:

a week away from

this place,

and now I'm back

and see

that

the old dump

has not changed:

same characters and places to stay away from,

same attitudes of indifference,

same lack of anything approaching

liveliness,

same incrustation,

same cracks in the facades;

the train whistle sounds the same

so do the sirens;

same amount of staring going on

as before;

same everything,

nothing has changed:

nothing can.

Boston Cream

sometimes I go to Dunkin' Donuts

for coffee

and while in line

think about the doughnuts

maybe even consider a crueler

or plain stick

sometimes fantasize about

a Boston Cream

which

I would never order

because of my diabetes

or a chocolate glazed

either

its the same as

thinking about Miss America

in my bed

with her legs spread

a far-out fantasy

that cannot be sustained

but

what about a reduced fat muffin,

it is a possibility,

one less remote

than

the beauty queen.