Horror Author
Resting on my shoulder
Purring in my ear
Coco watches what I do
My little supervisor
Callie sleeps on the couch
The crabby old cat
I drink my coffee
And write of trauma
Just to get it out
It’s cheap therapy
But soon I’ll need
To pay for the good stuff
I can’t cope on my own
But poetry, Coco, and Callie
They help me keep going
And sometimes a friend
Reminds me I’m important
I wish I had more friends
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
Busy day
Walking around the borough
Exhausted –
A quiet bus ride home
Ten minutes of silence
Perfection –
“I seen some geese the other day.
They was flockin’ up.”
“Yep. I seen ‘em.”
Were these two guys
Talking before I got on –
I thought one was a woman
“At first I thought
They was ravens talkin’
But they was geese talkin.’”
“Yep.”
“They gettin’ fat.”
“Uh-huh.”
I just want the quiet back –
One man gets off
The other says
“Are you ridin’ my back
Or am I ridin’ yours?
We’re friends now.”
The man getting off
Says nothing –
Please don’t talk to me
Please don’t talk to me
We ride in silence
Until the other man
Gets off and thanks the driver
I miss having my own vehicle
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
She’s rough
He’s almost too big
She grinds on my hips
It hurts but feels good
The friction burns
That’s the right spot
She moans
Why does he make that face?
While I’m inside
He doesn’t like it
I can only think of
He doesn’t like me
The friction
He doesn’t like my body
I’m uncomfortable
I’m not sexy
I can’t satisfy her
From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.
James Pack 