Poems
by Richard
LeDue
Another Collapsed Temple
I have more faith in a make believe god,
stroking his five o’clock shadow at 3 AM
while drunk on homemade wine
he created with apple juice and baker’s yeast,
than a smiling co-worker,
who stinks of the sort of sobriety
that leaves classical music turned off
and never had a cashier refuse
to sell them another bottle of mouthwash.
A Black Coffee Sermon
I need my coffee at 9 AM
to save me more
than rye whisky,
even if the ghost of my grandfather
(an alcoholic who’s been dead
longer than I’ve been alive)
haunts the stained-glass windows
of my brain with the force
of a saint most religions refuse
to recognize.
Even the Greats Lose Sometimes
Half of Bach’s music has been lost,
but we have nothing to blame
except the way time
can never lose
and how Bach being Baroque
made it easy for people
to fool themselves into believing
that being outdated
would last forever.
While our best victory
most days is to turn up the music,
sip some cheap whisky
and accept all we have is hope
that there’s someone
who cares enough
to help us live a little longer
as a memory
after being completely silenced.
