January 2024 Monthly Roundup
Nice to meet you on this side of 2024, Waywards reader.
Here’s a piece I wrote for commission that was published this month:
Federal Investigations into Labor Law Violations by Farm Employers Fall to Record-Low / Barn Raiser / 1-8-24
I just submitted a WBB player profile to the outlet R1S1 that should be online within the next week, and I’m working on more for the same outlet.
I also worked on and just wrapped up a reported essay of sorts I’m trying to find a home for ASAP.
This month I wasn’t overly prolific with the poetry either, but I did put a few verses together. You can find some of those—along with a poem I wrote in late 2023 but didn’t share last month—beneath this image of me shooting hoops a few days back.
Poem for Mom
A belated attempt at poetic eulogy
For the woman who raised me
Who if you ask me, died prematurely
Not getting to say goodbye still hurts me
As a single mom, she was often in a hurry
Stressed, we sometimes saw her fury
But she cared and was always there, so we need not worry
Her love made me feel worthy
She taught literature to kids in eighth grade
Before I started kindergarten, she taught me to read
She let me have a puppy when I was afraid
Will the memories or the pain of loss fade?
We’d eat popcorn and watch Nick at Nite
When I was upset she’d tell me it would be alright
She’s someone to whom I could always confide
I could feel a hole in my heart after she died
She enrolled me in sports camps
Sometimes we’d even play catch
Or to work on my hands
She’d throw a basketball at me, and I’d toss it back
She introduced me to Dylan
The Traveling Wilburys and Freewheelin’
She read me “Love You Forever,” Munch’s book for children
When as a kid I cried she knew I was sensitive to feelings
Now I know how Bambi and Little Foot felt
I wish I could turn back time and escape grief’s hell
I would always talk to you when I wasn’t well
If I was sad and upset you could always tell
You loved your family, especially your kids
And after July 9, 2021, I learned what real sadness is
Like Haley Joel Osment in A.I., now, but I can only wish
We had one more day together; mom, you’re still so sorely missed
Comforting the Afflicted and Afflicting the Comfortable Subtitle: Riffing On An Old Adage I ask, with dismay, Why must we suffer? Does it have to be this way? Granted, she seems okay You, it’s true, have it rougher Her appetite for pleasure, he couldn’t satiate Ms. Schadenfreude is titillated; your pain won’t abate Still, the grind makes you tougher She hates it when she doesn’t get her way Maybe, her upbringing corrupted her Narcissistic mirroring serves as her cover She prefers to dictate; others don’t get a say She’s bad for the heart, like a bunch of butter Specious method acting got you to trust her You pretended to be his amigo But drained him like a blood sucker Playing the part of vampiric, self-serving anti-hero Like the antagonist in a song by Olivia Rodrigo I’d say you have chutzpah and some nerve Shit, that credit would be undeserved, though, asshole You rimmed around but you never penetrated his soul Please, do your thing; put yourself first Pursue your bliss at someone else’s expense Obfuscate and distort the truth because, well, it hurts I know you prefer rich, tall men without shirts You spend like you ball but you flop in response To offensive fouls that never actually occurred I’m the boy with towels; the game is rigged for her From interpretive labor, you’re on permanent vacation You’re boxed in by that well-heeled perspective Your empathetic capacity is shriveled, like a raisin It was weakened by that wealth bubble you were raised in I’m sorry, but daddy’s money can’t buy character, kid I know it pays for your upper-class-only education For my part, I’m generously extending you an invitation You can be the most distinguished guest At this scorn-themed pity party I’m throwing, and face it The emcee is rocking it; you’re in the corner hating I’m dropping poor man’s poetry, which at its best Afflicts you, the comfortable, causing irritation And comforts the afflicted, encouraging sublimation, Anticipating personal and societal transformation—and you can take comfort in knowing you’ll never see my face again.
You Spotted Her In Your Mind’s Eye
You spotted her in your mind’s eye
She sensed your presence
Like a present, her perfect cadence
Recollects the essence in future tense
Nous aimerons, nous avons aimé
Despite or because the universe tests us
Walking over coals we learned lessons
We discovered what hurts can be false
Through those other flames we died
So to the beat of each other’s pulse
We could move together; you push me deeper inside
Filling heart and body, stars align; boundaries dissolve
It’s consummated and hereby resolved
I’ll heed your calls, and you’ll heed mine
You took my troubled mind and cured it
You didn’t need words to redefine kind
With the healing touch of registered nurses
I was patient; you looked and I felt fine
I long for that feeling of knowing you, lying supine
Your golden hair shines and bounces, hanging down
Like silk drapes over your smooth back
Fated flesh upon flesh makes a sound
I inevitably make noise and react
Grasping glutes firm and tight as they are round
My estranged, lost spirit is found
This incarnation seemed alien before we met
You invited me in; I was neglected, upright and engorged
I released a jump shot with a smooth stroke, gently caressing the net
As at home as I’d been since they cut the umbilical cord
Comforted by giving comfort, you cleansed me and got wet
Pressing all the right buttons then hitting reset
Memory preserved; the indelible doesn’t die
Even after we shuffle off the mortal coil
We’ll recall our divine dance through time
And recollect that which was worth the chafing and toil
The hurtful reveals the supernal reason we had to try
After you spotted her in your mind’s eye
She sensed your tumescence
You planted a seed; she gave by receiving
Old mating souls, new erstwhile best friends
Coupling, copulating and leaving
Then returning eternally to move against
To experience the friction of love conceiving
I hope to treat you to more next time. You deserve it, Waywards reader. Stay hungry until then!