"Uninvited Pleasures," "Holy Man," and "Such Things (The Preacher Drunk on the Corner)"

Uninvited Pleasures

The ground you spilled
your seed into, uninvited,
has grown barren,
its slowly decay
begin to permeate the air,
making dogs howl
and cats hiss,
while horses forced
to walk across its unturned form
empty their bowels,
wide eyes rolling despondently;

there will never be life
here again,
nor even the possibility of life,
your sweetly poisoned seed
a paradoxical harbinger of a worldwide demise,
that will come today, tomorrow,
or some swift day after
the echo of your grunt of selfish pleasure
has faded into wet memory.



Holy Man

His skin has become
broken glass,
jagged edges cutting
the remaining sleep
from his nights,

his days no better,
the sunlight reflected off his reflecting skin,
blinding his eyes,
causing him to stumble
into stained-skinned strangers,
his crucified tongue
unable to form words of apology,

unable to form any words
at all, even though
he has so much to say,
having looked upon
the face of God
a thousand amen’s ago.



Such Things (The Preacher Drunk on the Corner)


The rot must set in,
shrink the skin,
create the tears
the soul might escape through,
so it can dance in heavens
with the others souls it knew
when it was alive
and clothed in skin,
so that it might begin
its stretch of immortality,
as it is written,
as it is read
by those willing
and wanting
to read such things.

But the rot must set in first,
the rot following the death,
the death following the end
of everything
that seemed to matter
and might have mattered,
if a judgement of such things
was called for,
which some say
it is,
without being asked such things.

But such questions
are easily answered
when immortality
is hidden between the words,
the right words,
the proper words,
the known and unknown words,
the words taught to those
willing to listen
to such things,

willing to listen
before the rot sets in,
which it must,
which it will,
its stench haunting us all
as we live
without living,
live right up to our deaths,
our deaths before
the rot,
before the immortality
for those
and only those
who believe in such things.



Edward Lee

Edward Lee's poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen and Smiths Knoll. His debut poetry collection Playing Poohsticks On Ha'Penny Bridge was published in 2010. He is currently working towards a second collection. He also makes musical noise under the names Ayahuasca Collective, Lewis Milne, Orson Carroll, Blinded Architect, Lego Figures Fighting, and Pale Blond Boy. His Facebook page can be found at www.facebook.com/edwardleewriter.


Edited for Unlikely by Jonathan Penton, Editor-in-Chief
Last revised on Wednesday, December 26, 2018 - 22:35