Back from the dead,
\nhe landed on his head,
\nand from his mouth words bled:
\n"There’s nothing to be said."
\nHe’d walked into the light,
\nprepared to be contrite,
\nbut when the light turned red,
\nhe came back home instead.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Back from the dead, he landed on his head, and from his mouth words bled: "There’s nothing to be said." He’d walked into the light, prepared to be contrite, but when the light turned red, he came back home instead.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[16],"tags":[3,4],"class_list":["post-712","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poem-2","tag-poem","tag-poetry-2"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":903,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=903","url_meta":{"origin":712,"position":0},"title":"48th Anniversary Poem for N.","author":"Rick Young","date":"June 8, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"I longed to see the cupcake of your smile. I thought you were my mommy for awhile. You pushed me on a swing until my head was lost. Of course I'd follow you at almost any cost. I'd trail behind your skirt tails like a pet. I'd kiss you 'til\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":753,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=753","url_meta":{"origin":712,"position":1},"title":"Early For the Pearly","author":"Rick Young","date":"September 2, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Angel hair is in my eyes. What a heavenly surprise. There are wing tips on my shoes. Grab my harp and play the blues. I must be up on cloud nine. I can see a bright light shine. Feel a halo on my head. I assume that I am dead.\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":281,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=281","url_meta":{"origin":712,"position":2},"title":"Down Dead Ends","author":"Rick Young","date":"January 10, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"He doffs his own abysmal light in petty streets of thieves. He passes by a horse wrapped in pure velvet. He scrapes his nail on carriages that may be made of gold, and everywhere, in doors, old men with helmets. The days are fading in and out, the air, the\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/redtinnoodles.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/Down.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/redtinnoodles.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/Down.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/redtinnoodles.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/Down.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/redtinnoodles.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/Down.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":1234,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=1234","url_meta":{"origin":712,"position":3},"title":"Pain Baffles","author":"Rick Young","date":"April 9, 2018","format":false,"excerpt":"It's into a world of hurt we waken every morn, to the time we go to dirt, from the moment born. Screaming out into the light until our silent getaway, wending way through war and fight, dark of night and blast of day. Life is but a battleground, endless maps\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":934,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=934","url_meta":{"origin":712,"position":4},"title":"Crux Busters","author":"Rick Young","date":"August 31, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"In the bottom of the barrel, the cream of the crop languished, bruised, whipped and horribly folded, busted crowns and halos all about. The Crux Busters signature, plain as the glass on your face, a blood oath written in pig latin, a swarthy demonstration of demonic device. At Crux Busters\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poem"","block_context":{"text":"Poem","link":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?cat=16"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":133,"url":"https:\/\/redtinnoodles.com\/?p=133","url_meta":{"origin":712,"position":5},"title":"Nicotine Nanny","author":"Rick Young","date":"November 22, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"Beside the bassinet, she'll light her cigarette. The babies in her care have smoke rings in their hair. Sometimes near diaper rashes, you'll even find her ashes. And baby's first words often are simply, \"please stop coughin'.\" She's a nicotine nanny, a two-pack granny. 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