Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Wayne F. Burke- Three Poems


the jail cell was thin and
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;
I wasn't even married.

Same Oh

got a break:
a week away from
this place,
and now I'm back
and see
the old dump
has not changed:
same characters and places to stay away from,
same attitudes of indifference,
same lack of anything approaching
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
I would never order
because of my diabetes
or a chocolate glazed
its the same as
thinking about Miss America
in my bed
with her legs spread
a far-out fantasy
that cannot be sustained
what about a reduced fat muffin,
it is a possibility,
one less remote
the beauty queen.

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