Grapes of Wrath

I am wine as it comes 

from a bottle or a box. I am nectar

of the gods, 

stomped under men’s feet, 

placed in a cask or casket,

in damp cellars. I am

sweet and slightly toxic.

I have legs. I will give you 

my warm body, my delicate, 

almost acrid nose. I will

knock you on your sweet ass.

I am fine wine. I am

the grapes God—

the one true god’s wrath.

As the day breaks, I am

another pressurized cranium,

a numb reminder of excess,

a subtle sense of regret,

stomped under men’s feet.

 

-
  
"Grapes of Wrath" received a 3rd-place award in Ohio Poetry Day 2022 poetry contest #12, Non-traditional Narrator. It is published in the contest's compilation book, Ohio Poetry Day: Best of 2022.

Eric

 

Ohio Poetry Day Trifecta

Wild Rabbits

I just cannot resist

the rush of sunlight bouncing off ink lines 

scratched onto a page 

as though a hen 

was scratching for grub 

in the yard. 

Or the evening shadows 

cast along the tree line

by the distinctive ears of wild rabbits 

out near the burn pit, 

just past the tool shed,

under the swing.

I just cannot resist 

jotting the scene down into ink lines,

before it disappears,

as if it were all very real,

as if the grief was in the distant

past, 

out back, near the burn pit,

under the swing.

-

American Roulette

Pick a color.

Turn the tumbler. 

Go for broke. Do not 

remove

a bullet. 

Add an AR-15.

Raise

the stakes. Raise 

the flag.

Put more lives

on the line.

Add another

caliber, another

eight hundred rounds 

per minute,

armor-piercing.

Raise the flag.

Add religion. 

Add gender. Add gender ID.

Turn the tumbler.

Add TNT.

Add megatons. 

Go 

for broke. 

Stand your ground.

All lives 

in.

-

 

Expulsion Figure

after a cast bronze sculpture of the same name 

by Michael O’Keefe, 2009 

As if she were caught

in transition, half fading away,

almost wispy in the mist.

Her ancestors were Catholic—

perhaps “papists,” as they say, 

and disfavored.

As a people, they faced exile,

stripped of their livelihood and land.

Many fought the Crown and died.

Some were imprisoned at Halifax 

and Fort Edward, as if cast 

in irons or bronze. 

The remaining escaped to Quebec

or Louisiana (a so-called “free state”)

by way of what is now called Haiti.

She wears Acadian scars,

half fading away, perhaps as though

teleporting through time. 

-

Okay . . . a win, a place & a show: "Wild Rabbits" earned a 1st place, "American Roulette" garnered a 3rd place, and "Expulsion Figure" was awarded 2nd place in their respective categories in the 2020 Ohio Poetry Day contests, and were published in the contest compilation chapbook, Ohio Poetry Day: Best of 2020.

Eric

Sonnets After Midnight

With all of these poets hooked on form,

one’s apt to believe it’s like opiates or porn.

And though this path is now rarely worn,

I will torture syntax to start a swarm.

At first, I stumble over every line,

trying to juggle couplets that rhyme.

I start, but I stumble a dozen times

to twist a phrase, to make it mine.

Of meager skills I have no trust.

This formal structure has me beat.

But wait!  I have hobbled to my feet.

I have finally found some metered lust

and learned that writing sonnets after midnight

entails staying awake and artificial light.

-

"Sonnets After Midnight" won 1st place in the Ohio Poetry Day 2019 poetry contest #5, The Sonnet Award, and was published in the contest compilation chapbook, Ohio Poetry Day: Best of 2019.

Eric

The Bay is Crisp

An open window lets the air in,

lets in the brackish air. It is early,

just before dawn.

Boats, still moored,

bob languidly.

And those departing

are loath to make wake,

nary a ripple.

           

Fishermen (and fisher

women too) seek out a living,

eke out a life,

dredging from the deep

to furnish a feast for someone.

The nip in the air

wakes one faster than coffee.

Profit by the pound,

but only on good days, only

if the weather behaves—

a day just like today,

we both hope and pray.

-

"The Bay is Crisp" won 3^rd place in the Ohio Poetry Day 2017 poetry contest #3, Evelyn Barker Award: “In Praise of Traditional Values,” and was published in the contest compilation chapbook, Ohio Poetry Day: Best of 2017. 

Eric