Hello there. I was just working on this one, and it feels pretty good. Hope you like it. The first line is the title on this one, a little trick some poets use when wanting to blur the beginning. :)
You come to me in pieces.
I see you inside the delivery man’s
quick lip licks, his thin-legged,
slanted stride, and the nearly accurate,
static, jerky moment
right when his bony hips
suddenly tilt, giving in to the stroke
of first sweep.
Nearby, good teeth like yours
tear through lettuce.
Fresh from detox, the church drunk
shudders in circles,
stopping only to hover
kitchen-counter-style,
soon diving in for a full plate,
arriving on time, on stage,
like you. I see you inside
the picnic table bad man;
he watches the scattered ladies,
switches open his blade, and carves
knots into faces, jerk-tugging
three tangled leashes, accidentally
slightly choking
the droopy-eyed hound dog,
the lab, and the mutt.
And then, I see you buried within
the wedding photographer’s
close-up shot squint,
or the nervous groom’s
shaky flute lip.
You must live behind some stranger’s
blue wristwatch glass,
keeping time zones straight,
scanning scenes for safety,
like a park-side, single father in coveralls –
one hand clutching the tiny, fleshy fingers
of his new-found son,
the other hand gripping a tart,
green lollipop, both
half-unwrapped and half-cracked.
C.A. MacConnell
6/27/2022
6/25/2022
6/22/2022
6/20/2022
Helping Hand.
I've been focused on tree shapes lately. :) They strike me as simple and beautiful. The patterns, and the light. I always feel like they're speaking to me.
C.A. MacConnell
6/17/2022
F'n Rad Pedestrian Island
So I was singing along to the radio, feeling serene, driving through this pretty nice part of town, when I stopped at a stoplight, and I looked to my left, and for some reason, a woman had pulled up on a pedestrian island, (I guess that’s what you call those) and she boldly parked her car there. She was just hanging out, like there was a magical meter there for her. I guess she couldn’t find a place to park.
I thought, how hilarious, but what an asshole. But, oh no, she wasn’t the biggest asshole of the day…
THEN a dude in an old Mercedes pulled up on the island right next to her, parking there specifically to yell at her. I heard him scream, “WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, PARKING ON A PEDESTRIAN ISLAND? DO YOU THINK YOU’RE ABOVE THE LAW!??? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” He screamed and screamed. I couldn’t understand what the woman was saying, but she was yelling and making mad, puppet-like gestures.
So there they were. Add it up. Suddenly, there were two parked illegally. And screaming and causing a scene. Cracking up, I seriously thought about pulling up to the Mercedes man and yelling, “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, PARKING ON A PEDESTRIAN ISLAND TO YELL AT SOMEONE PARKED ON A PEDESTRIAN ISLAND? DO YOU THINK YOU’RE ABOVE THE LAW???????” I started rolling just thinking about it, but then I thought, the chain might become never-ending, and we could end up with the entire universe parked on that island, and that certainly would put a hold on the economy and maybe keep the police from doing their job and such. So I drove on.
C.A. MacConnell
I thought, how hilarious, but what an asshole. But, oh no, she wasn’t the biggest asshole of the day…
THEN a dude in an old Mercedes pulled up on the island right next to her, parking there specifically to yell at her. I heard him scream, “WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, PARKING ON A PEDESTRIAN ISLAND? DO YOU THINK YOU’RE ABOVE THE LAW!??? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” He screamed and screamed. I couldn’t understand what the woman was saying, but she was yelling and making mad, puppet-like gestures.
So there they were. Add it up. Suddenly, there were two parked illegally. And screaming and causing a scene. Cracking up, I seriously thought about pulling up to the Mercedes man and yelling, “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, PARKING ON A PEDESTRIAN ISLAND TO YELL AT SOMEONE PARKED ON A PEDESTRIAN ISLAND? DO YOU THINK YOU’RE ABOVE THE LAW???????” I started rolling just thinking about it, but then I thought, the chain might become never-ending, and we could end up with the entire universe parked on that island, and that certainly would put a hold on the economy and maybe keep the police from doing their job and such. So I drove on.
C.A. MacConnell
6/15/2022
6/13/2022
Beautiful Things
Just some flash poetry for you...straight off my tricky brain to you.
Beautiful Things
Black tar,
Batman blanket,
elephant rooms,
dark circles,
utterly useless
caffeine.
Meet me in the Wal-Mart boy section.
As a kid
you napped
in the baby
pool. Blue
and white striped --
your wrinkled
T-shirt, faded by sun and wash and sweat.
Maybe you dreamt
of a yellow slide,
a thick towel,
a sharp crowd,
and wide open,
thick-lipped mouths with coated tongues.
Perhaps you saw
a speed boat,
a winning race,
an American flag,
hidden behind
the blue and yellow. Shouting, shouting.
Announcement --
I uncovered
the truth --
suddenly,
I smile, sucking down mashed potatoes.
Mac and cheese
make me sick.
Back in the day,
Marcie and I
played straight through dual chicken pox.
We made pasta
from the box.
Once, I sent you
a piano song about all of the beautiful things.
Through
the screen,
and through
my chest, I heard you whisper, Me too.
This summer,
every ridiculous
suit is on sale, and charcoal strips are facials.
I would
drive there,
minus inflation. Yesterday, I couldn't help myself.
I confess
I cheated on the animals. Through the screen,
and through
my chest, I heard you say, Me too. I was madly
licking butter.
C.A. MacConnell
6/11/2022
6/09/2022
Fix Me, Fix You
Yesterday, I was hyper-focused on my sore neck.
Today, the neck is better, and so I'm obsessing about a tooth.
Often, I channel my worries into tangible objects, and my mind will turn every bit of focus onto something I believe I can grasp, measure, and control, such as these examples: a flat tire, a sore throat, a money situation, my writing, a personal encounter, a work problem, and other such daily issues. More often than not, I veer toward somatic fears. But now I'm aware of it, and in some ways, being aware truly takes the fun out of it, ha.
Nonetheless, when I grab a hold of an obsession at any given time, that thing may become my focus for the day, the week, or the month, depending on redirection/distraction attempts. For a while, I'll channel all of my fears into that...one...thing. And when the fear claims the tooth, for instance, the tooth seems to hurt more. And then all I think about is the tooth, and then it's hurts even worse. Welcome to my tunnel of never-ending fear, a wild, circular ride. One thing is clear: obsessing never helps the situation. And yet I try. And try again.
It never works. It's a temporary fix, and the fear simply festers and grows.
Because once the tooth problem is fixed, I'll grab onto something else. Depends on the moment. Hyper-focus on tangible objects has never stopped fear in its tracks, because if I don't address the bigger issues, the next day, I'll quickly pick something else, attempting psuedo-control. Often, my new focus changes as swiftly as the weather.
But these smaller focus objects and obsessions are mere symbols of the bigger monsters.
You see, my real, intangible fears rest deeper -- fear of being alone, fear of failure, fear of getting sick, fear of people judging me, fear of facing big life issues with no support, fear of long-term suffering and pain, fear of loss, fear of being trapped, and the like. That's where the real beasts live, and I try like hell to cover them up.
But the solution is simple. Now that I've written about the biggies, I can enjoy the rest of my day, because sharing it with you has cut the power of it all in half. And if you're still reading, and you can relate to these above-stated essential human fears, and you know you're not alone, then perhaps now you feel better too.
That's why we're here.
C.A. MacConnell
6/07/2022
Ten Minutes
Here's a poem for you today. Thoughts within ten minutes.
Ten Minutes
She chews in my ear
My tits hurt
An Italian movie star, his souped-up light fixture
Toothaches
Never a white condo
Virginia horses
Minimalist
Shave my head
Boxing
She never made it to the ice cream man
Heroin
Rigid
A dog, a quiet house
What the hell, she wants fat sucked from inner thighs and stomach, put it on the booty
Infusions and meds
Something is wrong with me
I’m sorry to the universe, and the trees
I wanted this cat to kiss me in the meeting hall last night
Wes Anderson might show up
A mask, throwing me down for doggy
Smoke and hunt for eagles
I bought the T-shirt
One cold night in the car in Montana
B, Vegas, the heart-shaped, vibrating bed
M’s house, R’s basement
The lesbian’s couch for a week
Mountains and bunks
The pool deck
Sleeping with G in the hostel yard, man we stunk
Me, A, we rolled, same birthday, street twin
Hippies on the beach
R from Arizona, never told you but I loved you
Tent in Dad’s back yard
Aging hillbilly
Fake tans make me cringe
He liked me enough to fuck me in the 90s
H never believed me
Living in a van, shitting in a bucket
On the motorcycle with B
On the parkway with J
Sitting on the stoop outside Mill Mountain
Cancel my haircut
I should’ve gone without the mask
She’s perpetually thin, no cavities
Burned my right hand
Full head of hair on that pussy
Finding a live wire
Someone would hit me with Narcan
Maybe E will remember me when she goes
Maybe someone will swoop in
When is the car bill coming
Easier as royalty
Aneurysm
In sixth grade, I was in love with a girl who gave me a book told through the voice of a dog
He would offer me money or flowers to keep me
Everywhere is hiring
Circuit speaker
Grandpa was quiet and sick
Nothing fancy, but perfect transmission
C.A. MacConnell
Ten Minutes
She chews in my ear
My tits hurt
An Italian movie star, his souped-up light fixture
Toothaches
Never a white condo
Virginia horses
Minimalist
Shave my head
Boxing
She never made it to the ice cream man
Heroin
Rigid
A dog, a quiet house
What the hell, she wants fat sucked from inner thighs and stomach, put it on the booty
Infusions and meds
Something is wrong with me
I’m sorry to the universe, and the trees
I wanted this cat to kiss me in the meeting hall last night
Wes Anderson might show up
A mask, throwing me down for doggy
Smoke and hunt for eagles
I bought the T-shirt
One cold night in the car in Montana
B, Vegas, the heart-shaped, vibrating bed
M’s house, R’s basement
The lesbian’s couch for a week
Mountains and bunks
The pool deck
Sleeping with G in the hostel yard, man we stunk
Me, A, we rolled, same birthday, street twin
Hippies on the beach
R from Arizona, never told you but I loved you
Tent in Dad’s back yard
Aging hillbilly
Fake tans make me cringe
He liked me enough to fuck me in the 90s
H never believed me
Living in a van, shitting in a bucket
On the motorcycle with B
On the parkway with J
Sitting on the stoop outside Mill Mountain
Cancel my haircut
I should’ve gone without the mask
She’s perpetually thin, no cavities
Burned my right hand
Full head of hair on that pussy
Finding a live wire
Someone would hit me with Narcan
Maybe E will remember me when she goes
Maybe someone will swoop in
When is the car bill coming
Easier as royalty
Aneurysm
In sixth grade, I was in love with a girl who gave me a book told through the voice of a dog
He would offer me money or flowers to keep me
Everywhere is hiring
Circuit speaker
Grandpa was quiet and sick
Nothing fancy, but perfect transmission
C.A. MacConnell
6/05/2022
6/02/2022
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6/01/2022
F'n Rad Expression: The Smown.
Picture it. You're at the grocery store, wheeling your cart (the small, shorter kind) around the aisles like a speed demon because you only need butter, coffee, and shampoo, and it should really only be a "quick trip," although it took you a half hour to park, and you're semi-annoyed about the parking spot that's nearly a mile away, and you're not paying too much attention to the crowd, because this is a "quick trip." But wait a minute, you need sugar too. And maybe some Big K Diet Cola. And a frozen pizza. Oh, and your husband told you those mixed nuts were all gone. And didn't your daughter say she needed a headband for her hair? They're in the clearance bin. Before you know it, your cart is overflowing. By then, I'd say you're probably deep, deep into "shopper's blackout," whipping in and out of the other crazed people and stacks upon stacks of food stuffs.
But suddenly, you take one turn to fast, and you almost, let me repeat, ALMOST, run smack into the cart of another shopper. The horror. The biggest nightmare in shopping land. Humbled, you back off a little. Just a little, just to see who's going to make the next move. Now, what happens next is very curious...something strange I have noticed lately.
If you make eye contact with the person (which doesn't always happen), let's face it, sometimes, the spineless people just jerk the other way and bolt off; however, most of the time, one person or the other will mouth, "Sorry." And nearly always, the other person will make this weird expression. They sort of half smile, and it's a tight-lipped expression where the edges of the mouth are turned up, but the lips are pretty much missing they're pressed so tight, like a cross between a smile and a frown. I'm calling it a "Smown." (rhymes with "town.") It's a new expression name I invented. It's that look that people give when they really want to say, "Fuck you get out of my way," but instead, they're forcing themselves to be nice for some unknown reason that probably has to do with what their mom and dad told them to do back when they were eight, and they really don't feel like causing a rumble I guess.
Try it again. Walk down another aisle. Someone's got one of those carts with the kid's car attached to it, and they're blocking the entire snack aisle. It happens all the time. You roll your eyes and stop, waiting for that mofo to move. You look up at them and what do you see? I guarantee you will see the Smown. It's as if they want to say, "Listen, I've got three kids I'm shopping for, and I have to push around this ridiculous toy car, and you want me to move my cart?" But then they move the cart and throw you a winner Smown every time.
Try it again and again. I guarantee, every time, if you look up at the face right when you are about to run into a shopper, you'll see the Smown. I've perfected my Smown. It is the look of utter forced humility and happiness and accepted by shopping cart madmen and women everywhere. It has gotten me out of many scrapes.
Only problem I'm having is how to create that Smown when texting or typing. It might look something like this: :)( or even better, this :S
If you're bored today, notice the Smowns all over your world. At work, when someone cuts right in front of you to open the bathroom door, and they catch your eye -- here comes a perfect Smown. At Target, when someone reaches for the last purple bath towel that was on sale -- another Smown. At the gas station, when someone pulls up to the pump you wanted. Smown, every time. That creepy, tight-lipped, half-smile is everywhere. In most cases, when they Smown, you can't even see the person's lips at all. Everywhere, lipless creatures are Smowning. At the park, when some Mom's kid takes your kid's swing. Smown. At the office, when some asshole uses the last of the sugar for his coffee, then looks at you, shakes the empty sugar box, shrugs, and says, "Sorry." Ultimate Smown.
You get the idea.
Good luck today. There is Smowning everywhere. Beware.
:S
C.A. MacConnell
But suddenly, you take one turn to fast, and you almost, let me repeat, ALMOST, run smack into the cart of another shopper. The horror. The biggest nightmare in shopping land. Humbled, you back off a little. Just a little, just to see who's going to make the next move. Now, what happens next is very curious...something strange I have noticed lately.
If you make eye contact with the person (which doesn't always happen), let's face it, sometimes, the spineless people just jerk the other way and bolt off; however, most of the time, one person or the other will mouth, "Sorry." And nearly always, the other person will make this weird expression. They sort of half smile, and it's a tight-lipped expression where the edges of the mouth are turned up, but the lips are pretty much missing they're pressed so tight, like a cross between a smile and a frown. I'm calling it a "Smown." (rhymes with "town.") It's a new expression name I invented. It's that look that people give when they really want to say, "Fuck you get out of my way," but instead, they're forcing themselves to be nice for some unknown reason that probably has to do with what their mom and dad told them to do back when they were eight, and they really don't feel like causing a rumble I guess.
Try it again. Walk down another aisle. Someone's got one of those carts with the kid's car attached to it, and they're blocking the entire snack aisle. It happens all the time. You roll your eyes and stop, waiting for that mofo to move. You look up at them and what do you see? I guarantee you will see the Smown. It's as if they want to say, "Listen, I've got three kids I'm shopping for, and I have to push around this ridiculous toy car, and you want me to move my cart?" But then they move the cart and throw you a winner Smown every time.
Try it again and again. I guarantee, every time, if you look up at the face right when you are about to run into a shopper, you'll see the Smown. I've perfected my Smown. It is the look of utter forced humility and happiness and accepted by shopping cart madmen and women everywhere. It has gotten me out of many scrapes.
Only problem I'm having is how to create that Smown when texting or typing. It might look something like this: :)( or even better, this :S
If you're bored today, notice the Smowns all over your world. At work, when someone cuts right in front of you to open the bathroom door, and they catch your eye -- here comes a perfect Smown. At Target, when someone reaches for the last purple bath towel that was on sale -- another Smown. At the gas station, when someone pulls up to the pump you wanted. Smown, every time. That creepy, tight-lipped, half-smile is everywhere. In most cases, when they Smown, you can't even see the person's lips at all. Everywhere, lipless creatures are Smowning. At the park, when some Mom's kid takes your kid's swing. Smown. At the office, when some asshole uses the last of the sugar for his coffee, then looks at you, shakes the empty sugar box, shrugs, and says, "Sorry." Ultimate Smown.
You get the idea.
Good luck today. There is Smowning everywhere. Beware.
:S
C.A. MacConnell