Special Ops

There is a needing
You know it
A posture we take
A state of mind
Revealing concession
In moments we’re defeated
So we think

Sit up straight, goddammit
Acknowledge the day
With legs long
Jaw strong
Forehead forward
Escape!
What imprisoning thought?

For Father’s, In Advance

For the fathers who found me right where I was at those given times, and right on-time

You, who, with green eyes, blue eyes, and blue-green eyes

Loved me with a love that helped me grow tall, be tall, and stay tall

Thank you for the canned vegetables, the frozen vegetables for-the-first-time-in-a-lifetime, and for the fresh-from-the-farm-and-roadside vegetables

Though some would seriously judge, I needed your yo’ mama jokes, bar room jokes, and first thing in the morning jokes, to remind me to smile

-you showed This firstborn how to be Serious Business, after all-

Thank you forefathers, for being my fathers, for being there then, and though elsewhere now, for being still here nonetheless

Bruised Shins

I am forced to rip things
Right from the ceiling
Things that like the ceiling
Should never have been

I am forced to face flowers
Bleeding on skin
Flowers in need of new skin
Injected with pinpricks of hope

I am forced to my knees
On ground that is strong
Knees by the habit made strong
Despite the bruised shins