All Afternoon Long
past wordless fields
of music
& ruined barns
a tattered necktie
& a drawing of young trees
he knew every crazy road
from his favorite chair.
My Father’s God
blotted out the sun
the wind was perfect
the autumn world
marveled at me
in my one good suit.
A Desperate Neighborhood
at heart
america
is long mornings
with obvious motives
alone & delicate
silent hillsides of red poppies
poor sons & dreadful movies.
John Dorsey is the former Poet Laureate of Belle, MO. He is the author of several collections of poetry, including Which Way to the River: Selected Poems: 2016-2020 (OAC Books, 2020), Sundown at the Redneck Carnival, (Spartan Press, 2022, Pocatello Wildflower, (Crisis Chronicles Press, 2023) and Dead Photographs, (Stubborn Mule Press, 2024). He may be reached at archerevans@yahoo.com.
Nice to read A Desperate Neighborhood so close to Independence day. Hooray America?
a Desperate Neighborhood seems all too real. The rockets were red gleaming over the trees and the houses in the neighborhood all night into the early evening. And our city was lucky compared to the capital city where teenagers with flare guns and real guns alternately started row house fires and saw four innocent bystanders shot on their way home, along with some 50,000 other people, from annual Empire Plaza fireworks display. And that was just the beginning….thanks for these poems, John
Seems like most neighborhoods are desperate these days. I like your poetry!