Apple Montage

Apple Montage

Sneaking around
with Cousin Jenny,
smoking menthol
beyond the sheds.

Late summer vacation 1973
in the backwoods of Tennessee.

To the right
behind the barn
were apple trees.

There were several
of those trees
and other trees
behind them
beyond a field
and behind them, other trees.

Later, I stood near
as a crowd
watched Pops and my Uncle
cooking apple butter;
stirring the brown gunk,
boiling in a huge black kettle.

I saw my father
secretly pass
a wine bottle
to my Uncle Clarence.

I went from
breathing cold mist
out back behind the barn,
to breathing
the hot misty steam.

The air smelled of apple fumes
and strong booze.

-Will Dockery

Off The Cuff (Part Two)

Off The Cuff (Part Two)

Enforced distance
I've known her for a while.
But I could never love her
I'll never know her smile.

Because she can't see me
and I can't see her.
She just lives around the way
but the distance could not be further.

And I can not explain that
can not be really written in a book.
She is like an ancient soul mate
she has such a distant look.

If I had the courage
I'd ask her why she don't seem to like me.
But like I'm sometimes known to do
I'll just wait and see.

Off the cuff
I cry secret tears for you.
Off the cuff
couldn't take a rejection from you.

-Will Dockery (2000)

Saint Augustine Blues (Chorus Six)

Saint Augustine Blues (Chorus Six)

Dollars in the bucket
collect for the street singer.
Old man with beads paints a chinaberry
points out the parrots.

Blonde after blonde after blonde
after the parade.
People start looking really strange again.

I must seem likewise to them
as this dusty smell surrounds me.
I'd draw these people with words
but I'm not fast enough.

They pass and fade
part of the parade.

On this really old wall
good view from up here.
Forever is a long time
but not as long as yesterday.

-Will Dockery (1997)

May 7 1966

May 7 1966

Eeyore actually was
one of my favorite Pooh characters.

Speaking of Pooh,
I was such a fan around 1966.
My mother baked me
an orange Winnie the Pooh themed cake
for my birthday.

Wonderful memories
thanks for stirring them.

-Will Dockery (2022)

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