Note: These are not the better lines, but the thoughts that were part of the poems.
Jeffrey DeLotto, Texas Wesleyan University
“Geckos on the Bathroom Screen”
Each summer they come…
leans forward and lashes back
“Ebb Tide Quiet”
an old gray…
sank into the sand
a child upon his knee
braving the march of days
Two modern versions of dramatic monologue…
Can I show him how to catch a fish, guaranteed?
always got a bucket on the boat
down in the Keys
Hatteras hole there
built the superstructure on site
I was in the bottle more than not.
I saw Jean.
I quit the bottle. She didn’t tell me to. She just looked so disappointed.
Don’t make it happen. It will, in its time.
Jean told me about the cancer.
Smiling like she knew something.
Canadian Club. See these hands? They were clocks.
That bottle still looking at me.
I came to see that day…
smell the hand of God in everything.
Jean was right.
flashing by in the night
words of feeling
Another one of my marina dramatic monologues
flat plastic box, saffron like gold
boiling water, smell the steam rising
sloop–them your kids?
mince shallots real fine
I was trained. Culinary school with a sous chef…
just working in town, she thinks she can say whatever
fixed his action… Then they put me in for a while.
You see these thick eyes?
Deglaze the stock.
Strain it through this old tee shirt.
smell that saffron
songs of the fate as they are sewing
needles stitching in between the lines
dreamt I climbed a ladder
how much farther?
spittle slipped from his chin
burning the fate of lines
blood said burn
commonality in both poems
Brother Ray (JD) phoenix of his own sort