Saturday, June 23, 2018

The Sweet By and By (or, Curried Beef and Eggs for Breakfast) for Tony Hayden. by Jason Ryberg




The only answer, really,
to a morning after a night
of too much curried beef and bourbon
is, of course, more bourbon
and maybe some brown sugar
(if you have it) mixed into a mug
of hot, tar-black coffee,

an old tattered bathrobe,
an even older folding chair,
a pair of cheap sunglasses (seriously,
never pay more than ten bucks
because, sure-as-shit, you’ll lose them
or sit on them or something equally
catastrophic),

a book of 800 Years of Ancient
Chinese Poetry, a cool(-ish),
moody wind in the spindly,
spider web trees (strung, here
and there, with invisible chimes
it seems),

a smelly mutt named Murph
or Zeus or Lucky to bring you
a stick to throw, from time to time,

left-over curried beef
and eggs (over-easy)
warming on the stove,

a muddy river sliding
lazily, by and by, and there,
in the distance, a rustic,
country Charon, maybe,
ferrying some recently
departed soul on over
to the other side.





Jason Ryberg is the author of twelve books of poetry,
six screenplays, a few short stories, a box full of folders,
notebooks and scraps of paper that could one day be
(loosely) construed as a novel, and, a couple of angry
letters to various magazine and newspaper editors. 
He is currently an artist-in-residence at both 
The Prospero Institute of Disquieted P/o/e/t/i/c/s 
and the Osage Arts Community, and is an editor 
and designer at Spartan Books. His latest collections of poems 
are Head Full of Boogeymen / Belly Full of Snakes(Spartan Press, 2016) 
and A Secret History of the Nighttime World (39 West Press, 2017). 
He lives part-time in Kansas City with a rooster named Little Red 
and a billygoat named Giuseppe and part-time somewhere 
in the Ozarks, near the Gasconade River, where there are also 
many strange and wonderful woodland critters. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Spirited Away By Ken Gierke

No wet blanket, it kept her dry. Bottle or can, didn’t matter. Kept her warm. Inside. Where it matters. Until it didn’t let her forget what ...