The First Time Papa Cried

The first time Papa cried, I stole away to laugh. Another powerful man had been put in the ground, After a thorough life, Oily men dug a grave in the front chamber, And added his golden spoils to the mix. A portrait in the sun, This dead man had the face of a dying plant. … Continue reading The First Time Papa Cried

Men are Allowed to Cry

Men are allowed to cry. To leak into damp dreams, To long for the one never gotten, Hunt down the ones hardly so, And still smell the ceaseless vacancy, It’s all right to talk blades out of open wrists, And be finished in a quaking crowd. To be just drained enough, And still supply sound … Continue reading Men are Allowed to Cry