My bestie’s cousin–they call him Sketch Pad–has a tattoo on his penis But was too pain-shy to finish The right half of his left-right Two word rib tat. He was supposed To be “Black Sheep.” He ended up BLACK SH…
I hope this is the last time my Tired ass leaves the seat of This gray vinyl hospital chair Turned forty-five degrees to My mother’s gray blanketed Hospital bed. She’s being Discharged today to better things I hope.
Today—leaving day— Is the first day I noticed there is Color in this room. I have nothing Poetry profound to say about This presence—the coral and blue. Nothing you can carry in your pocket when Your mom attempts slow suicide too by Refusing to eat—to comfort you. To Reckon the anger. All the anger.
Except to say the color is there. The color is there, aloof Of whether you see it or not.
But do see it. See the color. It’s there.
-M. Ashley photo taken at Kaiser Ontario Hospital, Ontario, CA
The croupier god comped me a suite at The Palace, (offseason), and led me through the hallways personally, making smalltalk, explaining how the elevators work, keeping a steady pace while his scuffed rake dangled from a black elastic loop sewn custom into the lining of his white suit jacket. He opened the coded door for me, (first try), deciphered the thermostat, unstuck the drawers, programmed the remote to new, in-house channels, and turned the well-dressed bed down.
He said, “This luxury is where you lie.”
He handed me a gold card with my name embossed, black laurel in the upper right corner framing a female silhouette with an EZ-Read magnetic strip on the backside hovering over a hotlist of company-owned joints.
He said, “This is how we feed you for free.”
He strummed his swarthy fingers over an orderly row of three-score and ten play-worn purple checks arranged in an open, unfinished wooden box lined in remnant green felt and set on top of the empty honor bar.
He said, “And these? These are a very good start.”
-M. Ashley
As of today, this poem is ten years old. Crazy crazy crazy. Happy New Year everyone!
“Flow down and down in always widening rings of being.” -Rumi
I imagine us bound together by barrel Rings. Maybe we could go into the lovers’ Protection program under the name Cooper and you could kiss my clever Mouth with your clever mouth almost Out in the open. Only the gods and the Government would know we were never Supposed to end up barrel bound to Each other.
Your people think you married down. Fuck your people. I married you and You’re a criminal—with lots of money so…
Is that up or sideways? With you It’s almost always sideways.
We didn’t see—we sensed him Black hair, caramel skin, dressed in blue and black Lovely voice, petite man, graceful hand Magically he opened the cake case from the front
Black hair, caramel skin, dressed in blue and black Delighted ladies sighed in surprise Magically he opened the cake case from the front He did it for the delighted ladies’ sighs
Delighted ladies sighed in surprise He said he’d die if he had to… He did it for the delighted ladies’ sighs …Go in from the back every time
Purple kangaroo wine, cheap and bitter Gratitude shouts louder than a flash flood warning Climax withheld for one notch less drunk than this Red solo cup abandoned on the windowsill
Gratitude shouts louder than a flash flood warning Half full of wine–collecting rain Red solo cup abandoned on the windowsill Pajamas and flip flops in a tangle by the bed
Half full of wine–collecting rain God’s body happens where lightning strikes something Pajamas and flip flops in a tangle by the bed Only one window opens wide enough
“Certainly I was interested. I had to be, for I was hopeless.” -“Bill’s Story,” Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 10
Abandon all hope, ye who enter Here I lay all enamored of Interest Who sexily swayed into the stuffy Room where I divorced Hope—finally Mouth all full of sugar Heart all full of hate