Edge of Memory

Edge of Memory

Yes, I'm just in a real funk
over throwing away my homeland
30 years ago
in 1987.

I can't shake it
for some reason.
It seems to haunt
my every thought.

Like the
City On The Edge of Forever
time was altered
30 years ago
in 1987.

And it has changed my reality
in grim ways.
But I made my choices
with supposedly sound mind.

-Will Dockery

Ferryboat to Easy Street

Ferryboat to Easy Street

Somewhere along the ferry
Or out there
On the streets
You know it'll be all right.

Hide yourself in fright
Stay out all night
We will make you less tight
Strange possible delight
With anyone in sight.

Keep you cool
You need to stay in school
Make everyone out there proud
Be real proud talk so loud
And together we'll be allowed.

Don't you know
I can't take it
The way you strap it out
Nobody here in pain
Feeling like I have
Seen you here.

Don't worry I'll pull out
You know it'll be all right
Keep it stiff
Act real bright
You're so fine
Just like a sign.

Kind of on the height
Of the experience
Throwing in minds
All twisted with followers.

-Will Dockery (April 1977)

Red-Lipped Stranger

Red-Lipped Stranger

Her creep crawls
the narrow stairway
of the Candlelight Motel
to watch for her
from a window.

Rethinking
his infatuation
but clinging
to his vision of her
as the red lipped stranger.

Downstairs
the desk clerk's cat
slithers through
the service entrance.

The vampirate
on a motorbike
passes below
to the westbound bridge
werewolf on her back.

Jennifer at riverbend
watches gunboats
smacks her foot
on the bright red clay.

Jennifer gives good lyric
she wrote this poem
she's no bum.

But she's not there
on the other side
of the greenish wall.

Through a three-inch-wall
he hears
bedsprings rattle
rustle of dry-hump,
some guy's mumbles.

Hears the fat blonde waitress
whip it in bondage
the sounds
lull him to sleep.

The hand of Uncle Sugar
still taking notes
as a new standard bearer
hands out trophies
to the winners.

His trillion dollar gash
flakes from the bone
as gravity tears
a pound of dust.

Clings to a picture book
the missing part of himself
as if perpetually
anchored
to his invisible erection.

At Lucky Seven Lounge
she tries
not to reveal herself
but she stubbornly clutches
her empty shoes.

Something
seems missing
in the broad daylight
when the details
are displayed.

All that remains are
her flat black hat
her oversized lantern
her broken laptop.

No poor boy on the street
can speak of her
or the island on the river.
Or about her return...
her resurrection.

-Will Dockery

Bruised Flower

Bruised Flower

The bruised flower sleeps,
I'm waiting in the
living room battle ground.
Dawn seeps light into the room.

In this alien hill country
a hundred miles from home.
Sleeping in-laws like these
I dare not shut my eyes.

She's just one of those people
with the fate of having the wrong father.
He walked into this thing,
what kind of choice did she have
to take the blame?

Not the worst holiday I ever had,
there's been several that have been worse.
Sometimes I wonder what's the point,
but not for long...

All she wants is some love
she could really use some acceptance.
All she gets is some coldness
it tears my heart up to see it.

The bruised flower sleeps,
I'm waiting in the
living room battle ground.
Dawn seeps light into the room.

-Will Dockery (3-22-1997)