by Rick Young | Dec 3, 2013 | Poem
You’ll have to go on inner wind
to get to the heart of the cartoon monkey.
To see the numbers dashed and sinned.
The alphabet, your average junkie.
And down the stairs of other worlds.
And up into the light of silence.
There’s your shadow, locked and curled.
Clouds are tame. Sun is violence.
You’ll have to go on slow rewind
to get to the vein of the masters passed.
On line, the winters, grey and blind.
Long falls of marching underclassed.
And down the pipe of lifelike smoke.
And up the stream of bloody sorrow.
Cartoon monkey beats the joke.
Turns into a man tomorrow.
by Rick Young | Dec 2, 2013 | Poem
It belonged to a little old lady.
That hole is just a decoration.
It’s supposed to smoke like that.
The shedding is part of its charm.
The wobble will self correct in time.
This is the original paint.
That smell only happens on hot days.
The nicks can be fixed really easy.
It never came with that part.
Only the surface is cracked.
It was serviced regularly.
Those stains are a part of the pattern.
That sound goes away when it warms up.
I wouldn’t sell it if I weren’t moving.
by Rick Young | Dec 1, 2013 | Poem
A wallet lost in Buffalo
was found in Montreal.
A couple in the Grande Hotel
espied it in the hall.
No money left inside it,
and no credit cards as well,
but photos there
that would be missed.
That was not hard to tell.
A small boy with a missing tooth;
a girl with bright red hair.
A woman who could be a wife;
a smiling elder pair.
They mailed it back to Buffalo,
an address found within.
"We’re sorry for your loss," they wrote.
"Take comfort in your kin."
by Rick Young | Nov 30, 2013 | Poem
To tattle tale on spies is most unwise.
They’ll boil you in contempt and baste with lies.
Though vigilance defines a freedom lover,
they’ll put you in the ground and call it cover.
Their evil is religious in its purity.
They face a task prodigious: your security.
Whatever seems suspicious in your eyes
can be corrected by a drop of spies.
by Rick Young | Nov 29, 2013 | Poem
Gigantic youth.
Ruler of the jungle gym.
Chewing crayons like pez.
Unearthing the sandbox.
Grown to colossal teen.
Eating the phone book.
Pimples like doughnuts.
Squashing the school bus.
Redistributing. Redecorating.
Head of the class.
Shoulders of the world.
King Kong of the prom.
Mascot. Team. Fan base.
