By Raud A. Kennedy
Tin mailboxes line the gravel path,
their wood posts aged a silver gray.
The stones tickle my bare soles
as I look through my box
for the letter you�d said you sent.
But it's not there, and it's as if
I'm no longer there either,
just a shell standing in front
of an empty metal box.
Chipped teeth litter his face,
bruised lips smear his cheeks,
salty blood trickles from his nostrils.
But he still stands, hands clenched
as fists at his sides, knuckles cut,
as he looks down at his opponent
stretched out moaning in the sluice
running in the alley�s gutter. His boss,
his wife, his father, his life.
***
"On the Corner of Vista and Minton"
By Raud A. Kennedy
Let the skinny ones
stay skinny
standing,
thinks
the fat man
sitting
in the middle
of the bus shelter bench,
not wanting
to share
as he watches
the two dogs
on the corner
across the street.
The big dog sniffs
the little dog�s butt.
The little dog
spins around
and snarls,
then presents
her butt again
for smelling.
***
"Shuttlecraft"
By Raud A. Kennedy
He sucks on a smokeless cigarette in space
while looking back at the past, at Earth.
Unable to age or die, he wants to quit.
He yearns for his adolescence
before the cynicism of his maturity
smothered his life,
when his tears tasted
of salt.
***
"Picture Frame"
By Raud Kennedy
Reflections in the mirror
don�t leave stains
like a cut on the face
leaves a scar.
Torn tissue never to return
as it was.
Pedaling my bicycle
through my errors.
Of judgment, choices.
Who is my friend.
Who isn�t.
***
"Bruised Fruit"
By Raud Kennedy
The fragility of our bodies
goes forgotten until injured.
A deep cut, a broken bone,
and then the heeling.
Can a smile repair
a sneer�s damage?
Fragility is the common
Denominator.
Even steel melts.
Planets die, suns implode,
and we are as gnats
on a floating plum.
***
"Close"
By Raud Kennedy
A wake up call
tells you it�s time
to stop dithering
and get onto
what it is
you need
to do.
That is,
if you know
what that is.
***
"Together"
By Raud Kennedy
Campfire smoke,
smoldering driftwood,
faded jeans and sneakers.
I toss a stick on the fire,
you watch it burn.
I watch its burning reflection
in your eyes, moist,
still stinging from the smoke.
***
"Full Circle"
By Raud Kennedy
Anger smoked my emotions.
I was wrong.
When you and dad divorced,
he was the good guy.
His bedtime stories
were better.
I left just like he did
and walked for twenty years.
Now I�m coming home
and I wish I�d never left.
***
"Well "
By Raud Kennedy
When you know something,
and know it well,
it�s frightening.
If you know it,
you�ve reached the end,
and that leads to
a new beginning
in the unknown.
***
"Bottle Cap"
By Raud Kennedy
In a tunnel,
struggling to get to the far end.
Family, friends await.
Refuse bruises, cuts my knees.
Twist off tops, ketchup bottles,
things that snails live in.
Anger gave me a shell,
but now I�ve nothing,
just the survival instinct
to get to the other end.
***
"Generations"
By Raud Kennedy
The rusted cyclone fence
surrounds the boarded up house,
yellow, underneath the willow tree.
Fresh smoke rises from the black chimney.
The new owners have arrived.
Young, in love, anticipating
the future in their dream home.
It�s good they don�t know
the memories their house holds
for another couple, now old,
but once young, in love
and �
***
"Reduced Speed Ahead"
By Raud Kennedy
His bottle of e.d. pills rolls across the dash
as they speed through the turn
in his new red Porsche.
His heavy �girlfriend� has frosted hair
instead of gray.
Middle age is a washed out memory
in the rear view mirror
as the Grim Reaper
leans over the backs of their seats
and glances at their speed.
***
"But First You Have To Love Yourself"
By Raud Kennedy
Maybe moving back to the town
I grew up in was a complete mistake,
just chasing twenty year old ghosts.
When I left, everyone was older than me.
Now I�m one of them. The old.
Gray beard, anonymous pains that find
a new spot to warm each morning.
When I last lived here I was a punk,
and if that punk sat
next to my current self,
he�d smirk and chuckle,
not recognizing himself.
And I�d grumble about sitting
next to a know nothing
dolt.
***
"A Is For�"
By Raud Kennedy
I enjoy talking about people
in the third person
who�re seated next to me.
They could be geniuses,
but I�d still sound superior
as I tread on their insecurities
with my hand of friendship
on their knee.