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Caleb Coy


Birds and Bees

Hearing of birds and bees
I stood at the threshold of life:

It wasn’t dad’s idea,
Nor was it mom’s,
That when two parts joined
I would have dad’s brown hair,
Mom’s effortless smile,
Grandpa’s distinctive laugh,
Grandma’s needful vision,
To be sewn together intricately
With the entire history
Of mankind—hearts and
Vessels, nerves and
Brains, bones and
Sinews, livers and
Nodes, all trailing behind
A single spermatozoa,
A bright future ahead of him,
Driven by divine laws of nature
A single agent of fertility.

Genius and Venus
Could never conceive of such a “thing”
Not even with twinkles in their eyes.
​

Middle Ground

I take steps back
You circle round
Neither one gives
Neither one wins
Avoiding the cooties
Our genders at play

I try to speak up
You talk out loud
Each of us willful
Each of us waiting
Believing and knowing
A shame we don’t see

I take more steps
You try to follow
Both of us talking
Both of us nervous
Back and forth, one step, two, three
A whirlwind of words collision-bound.

I waste my time
You shake about
Neither can see
Both blind again
Waiting for wind
To blow us along

And now I have faced you in the light
Now please turn and face me back
Let us find the middle ground
How peculiar is loneliness
Just take one more step
And I will take mine.
​

Week People

​Monday morning is Bob
and Bob hates his job
Bob says hey to Fred in the hall
who says hey back to Bob in the hall
the coffee percolates, drips
a long day, a long week
and it all goes downhill from there.

Meet the sisters:
Fat Tuesday, Hump Wednesday, Thirsty Thursday
drinking martinis round a table every afternoon
and sleep heavy that evening
after they hang up the phone
full of the day’s gossip.

Friday announces herself
steals the show
is twenty-three years old and
addicted to coke.

Saturday morning wakes up late
does not remember Friday or
what he did to her.
He sits in the house all day in his socks
when she’s not running marathons
or out of town

Sunday afternoon is an old Brit sleeping
in a musty armchair
a wooden cross hung limply on the wall behind him
a glass of brandy forming condensation by his side
and as he snores
the game blaring on the telly
​
Picture


​Caleb Coy's Profile

           Birmingham Pigeons

​Allotted a life to live out
And fill out and empty out
That is one life too many.

I do not mean to play the fool
To regard your words as do the deaf
I cannot take comfort in this here roost.

My friends, my familiars, my confidants, my compadres
My sweet bosom buddies--
You are all equally loved
As are my kinsmen and customs and hobbies
It does not sit well with me
None of it does sit at all well with me.

I’ve done seen one too many pigeons take roost
Fly back out again

Somersault downward

And go out rolling

Straight as a boat line

Never to come up.
​

The Boy Who Never Laughed

Was once a little boy
A boy who never laughed
Never did escape no single smirk from him
No waggy-tail puppies
No Sunday paper funnies
No, never did he draw a smile or a sigh for them
When a baby he laughed once
A little reflex, they say
But that was just once and no more did he have
Then he learned to talk
And even learned to walk
And before too long they found he couldn’t laugh
His momma tickled him all over
And she took him to the toy store
Then off to the zoo to see the animals therein
He kissed a girl and she kissed him back
His daddy came home from Iraq
And still they never saw a giggle or a grin
The pictures he drew were all funny
At school he was the laughing stock
And when he told a joke there was laughter in his ears
They took him to a shrink
To see what they would think
They didn’t know why he didn’t ever snicker or sneer
He was made to look at ink blots
He was poked and prodded
He had to answer riddles with a helmet on his head
They brought him in some clowns
From the whole world round
Not a laugh in the morning, not a laugh when off to bed
Scientists came by
And even artists too
And the preacher came by just to play his little role
His words were well rehearsed
He said the boy was cursed
Oh, this here boy was born without a soul
They sold him to the fair
Where he was given a tent
For a nickel the boy with no soul was there to see
He saw a lot of freaks
He met a lot of geeks
And he laughed at those who came to pay the fee
He travelled out West
He travelled to the East
And he laughed and laughed and laughed at all he saw
After time elapsed
He finally collapsed
He laughed so long he up and died from his last guffaw
In Hell he was poked and prodded
They tickled him all over
He met the very men who sent his daddy off to war
The jokes he once told
To the devil were sold
The girl he once kissed married her a total bore
His momma had a daughter
She took her to the zoo
And the flock never again drank from the preacher’s cup
The fair came back to town
Folks gathered all around
And the boy laughed so hard the whole earth swallowed them up


                           ♢
​

                                                       My Comfort Zone

​You sit so still, with your heartbeat snoring
Go ahead and say that you have seen it all,
            typical guru of stagnant safety
Avoiding the possibility of drowning.

Here and there with blocks we are building
Only to draw up the lines of play
This is where I say I think it’s worth the effort
And on this trail we’ve reached an understanding.

I’ll tell secrets to imaginary friends
Only to hope that you are listening
            in the next room
            or down the hall
I’m glad to see you from where I’m standing.

It’s good to have you around
            if I didn’t mention before
Feel free to stick around
         if it’s not much I ask for
I’d like a stronger arm to pull me up
When I go out, they won’t beat me down.

See, these first steps aren’t so easy taking
Tumbling down, I crawl before I walk again
I’ll cross the street with my imaginary friend
Only to find my hand you’re still holding.

You’ve crossed into my
                         comfort zone.

Comments?

***

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