SELECTED POETRY

by
David LaBounty

GODDESS, GOD

my wife,

she doesn't
walk on water
but there
is the light
of candles
in her hands
and eyes
and
there is gravity
and wrinkles
tugging
on her
body and
face and
the stomach
and thighs are
soft
but I want
the stomach
and thighs
soft
like gentle
forgiveness
and I know
she won't
believe
me when I
say she
is so much
imperfect
flesh made

perfect.

© David LaBounty

---

TRANSPARENCIES

the people come and
they're all shapes and
sizes but they're also
the same

white homogenous suburban
lower to upper middle class
coming in with their
broken cars
and interrupted lives

just as I'm
white homogenous suburban and
almost
middle class

and the people,
they smile or complain
as they hand me their keys
and everyone of them has
some sort of anecdote
about how their car
got into this condition,
how their tire got flat
or how their engine
started coughing
and they don't realize
that their anecdotes
are almost the same
as any other anecdote
I've ever heard and
every single person
white homogenous suburban
is always in a hurry and
they don't have to tell
me they're in a hurry

I know they're in a hurry

just as I'm always in a hurry

just as I know they're going
to complain about the
price of their repairs
just as I always complain
about the price of
just about everything
except for the cans of
beer stacked in my fridge
that are the cheapest
ones I could buy

and later, after their
car or minivan or suv
is fixed or lubed

the people

their lives will continue
their white homogenized
and suburbanized lives;
their red blood flowing
through veins underneath
pale and almost

transparent skin.

© David LaBounty

---

DOMINION

God gave
me incisors
and dominion

He gave me
television and
credit cards

He gave me
slaughterhouses
and growth hormones

He gave me
drive-thru windows
and tail pipes

He gave me
a weak stomach
and a soft and
ignorant heart.

and most importantly,

He gave me a
wife and children
who love me, mostly

except when I yell
at the dog,
and make him

go outside.

© David LaBounty

---

A WEEK OF JUDGEMENT

Homogenous
they stood
in front of
the dairy
section head
to toe in winter
running gear
skin tight
and black
and he said
with his
wire-rimmed
glasses, let's do
Mexican
this week,
I can get that
taco mix and
mix it with tofu
and they have
that shredded
organic cheese.
No, she said sharply
cheekbones sharp,
we're not doing
that this week and
she saw that I was
staring so she
lowered her
voice and told
her husband
exactly
what they
would be doing
that week and their
baby sat in the grocery
cart, eyes glassy,
nose running yellow
and thick and it
smiled at me, its
lips stretching
the crusty skin
between
its mouth and
raw raw
nose.

© David LaBounty

---

JANUARY IN MICHIGAN AND IT'S LUNACY

It doesn't matter that
everyone knows
someone
that can't find a job.
And it doesn't matter
that houses are for sale
for months and years
and it doesn't matter
that I can't afford this
but I'm waiting an hour
and a half and it's a
Friday night and I'm
waiting to get into
a restaurant and me
and the wife and kids
are in that throng of
people packed in the
front of the restaurant
like cattle on their
way to the slaughter
waiting for a table
waiting for that
steak or chicken or burger
and I'm waiting for the
two three beers and even
though I can't afford it
like everyone else
I feel that I
deserve it.

© David LaBounty

---

THE APOCALYPSE

I can tell it's starting
to end by the way
she loads the dishes
into the dishwasher
and by the way she
doesn't look at me
when we talk. I can
tell it's over by the
way her smile fades
as I enter the room
and I can definitely
tell the end is
way past due
by the way she
stabs her food
with her fork.

© David LaBounty

---

BILLY COLLINS AND KUNG-FU

It is an empty school
another closed and
empty school
as all the children have
moved away from here
for suburbs greener
and grander and the
dead school
is used for evening classes
and daycares and I sit
in the narrow hallway
of echoing and nasal
voices of mothers and
fathers talking about
themselves and I
read Litany while my
sons are in kung-fu class
and there are chills and I
admire Collins.
I admire Collins
and I picture him
in Connecticut or the
Hudson Valley or
someplace that I'll never
afford
and I wonder
what he would think
if he knew he was
here, in a dying suburb
in a dead school
while my kids practice
kung-fu and there
are chills because
I am the
evening paper
blowing down an alley
and my wife, she's
always
the bread and the knife.

© David LaBounty

---

GUILT

Black with guilt
and I'm always
black with guilt
and that's what
comes with having
a job that requires
you to lay a little
bullshit on your
customers and
a little bullshit
on your
employees
and
the bullshit
is nothing more
than little
white lies
harmless lies
forgettable lies
and that's the
problem.
I always
forget about
the lies I've told
and sometimes
that thinking
comes home
with me and
the guilt
the black guilt
comes when I lie
to my
kids
and five
and six
they
catch me.

© David LaBounty

---

FAIR GAME

You might find yourself here,
you might find a version
of yourself here, a version
you didn't want the world
to see and I would like
to say I'm sorry but I'm
far from sorry. Users
like me are never sorry.
And it's not just you;
nothing is sacred,
not even my wife and
children and I will take
your misery and joy
and shape it and write
it and it may not be
what you want to see
but that's how it goes,
because everything
is personal,
everything
is fair game.

© David LaBounty