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that being outdated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.

 

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