The Big House
If I were San Quentin,
I would hold the key
to everything evil.
My heart would beat
with the tattooed fists
of men sentenced
into my keep, boys gone
crazy as their crimes.
I’d feel like guilt
most of the time. I’d be a maze
of whispers and lies. Truth,
if it existed at all, would arrive
in shackles, whimper and fold
on death row.
I’d have rats for eyes.
I would hold you close
and gnaw on your will. Time
would stagger, stumble and fall
still as their victims.
If I were San Quentin,
I’d have an IQ
of ten. I’d clatter and clank
the whole night through.
I’d hone my shank
and lower my pants.
I’d show you the sorriest
crack of an ass
if I were San Quentin.
From The Wolf Pack Moon by Richard Rensberry
to be published this May by QuickTurtle Books®
A Bloody Mess
They came on stealth feet,
two of them like animals,
with hammer and screwdriver
they pried into my treasures
of sleep, privacy, and dreams.
It was their intention
to steal them, haul them away
in paper bags, spend them
on something worthless as crack
cocaine. They crept like time
ticking through the house
with flashlights up the stairs.
They spoke with two voices,
one male and one female
stinking of beer. I could taste it.
It was bitter and acrid and rank
enough to fill me with fear.
It was never in my head to think
of empathy, poetry or love.
I thought of blood and guts
with gun poised and ready
to kill.
The Gamble
If I were luck,
I’d choose to be good.
I’d live in your pocket
and kiss your fingers
long before you roll the dice.
I’d blow on your hands and help you out
with a flippant flip of a silver coin. If I were luck,
I’d pick from the deck
the ace of hearts. You’d hit the jackpot
of love and friendship. We’d trick the devil
and outwit gods. If I were luck,
you’d beat the odds.
From The Wolf Pack Moon by Richard Rensberry
to be published this May by QuickTurtle Books®