When they finally caught up to me
it was too late.
I lay motionless while they
licked my bloodied and blistered
heels.
Their saliva seemed to sooth
my open sores
It was just a matter of time
before the licks turned to
bites
And the bites tore into skin
muscle and bone
Defecation finally ended the
humiliation
He was a painter
older gent
maybe late
60’s
of Irish or English
descent
he could drink
like a perch
and smelled of
spirits
He told me
“the secret
is long strokes.
paint with the
grain”
I would
always paint
quick
and
against
"If you’re
not going
to paint right
don’t fucking
paint" he barked
Of all the drunks
I knew
He was the wisest
I was first published at the age of 15. I mainly write to empty out my head. Usually whatever is on my mind comes out on paper. Two major influences for me are Charles Bukowski and William Carlos Williams. I love free verse.
My poetry has appeared in journals in the US, Europe, and Canada, including Fauquier Poetry Journal, Fledgling, The Plowman, Poetic License Poetry Magazine, the Moon, Magpie's Nest The Poet's Haven, Talväipivänseisaus Specials, The Persistent Mirage, 3Cup Morning, Zygote in My Coffee, Children, Churches and Daddies, Poetic Hours, Down in the Dirt, Remark, S.S.O. Press, and Thieves Jargon.