New Galilee

A neighborhood dog pressed his nose against the wind,

drooling at the thought of someone’s bitch in a mama’s way.

He yanked but chains held him tighter with each tug. Soon

he hanged in a noose of steel like a mouse trapped in a pool of cheese.


She stood sleek and moving with a savage need for music

like a need she’s felt since youth and bathing suits.

I watched and felt my mouth wetting, salivating for her touch.

She saw me seeing her and smiled, her ass inviting, so inviting.


Hiding quiet in their closet I peeked as my father massaged her.

My mother moaned like she was dancing a mamba with only his hand.

Together they softly spoke, gently stroked, the smell of musk climbing,

each stirred until their tongues reached and played a symphony for the night.


Fall air snapped me into reality, Cathy stared up to x-ray my eyes

like she is Jesus staring at a splash of water beneath his feet on Galilee.

She clasped my hand and smiled with cherry lips. Right then and there

I died in a pool of my own life, a life not wasted, not known.