![]() ![]() We don’t have a past so muchĪs a bunch of electricity and liquor, power Within the confines of my character, castĪs the bad boy in your life, the Magellan Lyrics in Morse code on your window at three A.M., My idea of courtship was tapping Jane’s Addiction I never brought youĪ bouquet of sonnets, or served you haiku in bed. In your voice under a blanket and said there’s two kindsĪnd those you don’t. Insect of glitter, a chandelier shining at the end The ring that’s landed on your finger, a massive Reminiscing in the drizzle of Portland, I notice On a park bench and simply hold your hand? Pay a person a dollar to just sit next to you Phone sex, or blowjob in a snap, but can’t I mean, isn’t it odd–how you can buy a lap dance, What I’m really trying to say is I tumbled into her Her skull at one moon, her gazing at another. It was like we were on Mars–me staring over At night, I’d lookĪt the stars and slither my petals through her hair. I was the instigator,īringing her flowers so often her co-workers In her mouth, I closed my eyes and pretended If it’s any consolation, when your wife took me Each year he grows a little older.Īnd eat midnight sandwiches, his headlightsĪnd I hold you close, apple of my closed eye, Yet staying underwater for long stretches. The water is lit up even though it’s dark We are underwater off the coast of Belize. Suggested read: Pink In Your Color And Other Poems By Amy King The lord’s truth visible for an instant, converting nonbelieversīy the bushel, who will swear for years they’ve witnessed a miracle. The same breath simultaneously, the net flying up like a curtain, ![]() It can’t be done-I let the faith roll off my fingertips, the ballĭrunk with backspin, a whole stadium of people holding Of a nonbeliever-the whole world watching, thinking Is down to its final ticks, I rise up and over the palms Yes, Jesus walked on water,īut how about a staircase of air? And when the clock A real priest works in disguise, leadsīy example, preaches with his feet. Wouldn’t put on that robe, wouldn’t need the publicĪffirmation. Once during an interview I slipped, I didn’t pray well tonight,Īnd the reporter looked at me, the same one who’d called meĪ baller of destiny, and said you mean play, right? Of course, The Pollack of limbs, flashing hands and teeth-Īre just temptations, obstacles between me and the Lord’s light. The hoop is not metal, but a pair of outstretched arms, Proudly say I only used fifty-nine today. Late at night, I call my long distance lover, Into the controls, the entire plane, an arrow On the red-eye from Seattle, a two year-old Here are some of Jeffrey McDaniel’s poems that will touch your soul and change it a little. Suggested read: Here Are 8 Poems By Kamala Das That Cradle You While Tearing You To Shreds ![]()
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