30 June 2011


it’s sugar   sure as shit
sure as guilt’s gonna find catholics
sure as sugar bear  curly hair
      nobody seems to care

the cell phone air 
fills with yes men
teen angst and attitude
keep the proof coming through
reading you
              feeding you
      but ultimately
                         needing you
to be the truth
       free the proof
socrates in shiny shoes

drinking the poison kiss
of cold air's bakery bliss
little ‘love you’ s between breaths

never the right time to get wet
  or be upset
we counted every last hair 
                                          on her head


           at least

and about a thousand more
       in the air
                  on the floor
an even dozen on my pillow
every time that's good 
        to go
or ought 
             to know
which way the timetable wind blows

for weathermen
                  for leathermen
   making sense and recompense
                         at all the reformed catholics
         on a
red brick   noise floor
    pushing adieu   to adore

here’s one   thing   more

      to good timing
and tippage
            the full house missing
drawing two
               but daydreaming of kissing
for the first time since i can remember
and at least since the first worst of november

when germs in mouths 
      caused so much doubt
and we all found out
that smiles are

to the little burn brown
              in this town
that circle the sweet sound
and get up just to 


                                                                   Corner of Oak Lane and 12th
by Chuck Connelly


  1. this one turned out great... "an even dozen on my pillow"

  2. it's the little lines that get me in your poems...