LOSING MY RELIGION
why, of course, Michael Stipe said it
so much more eloquently better
putting his blood sweat tears
fears hope dreams jizz
into the song of it
me, I lost mine in the cold stark
musty Lutheran Church basement
during those Catechism lectures
Germanic Stormtrooper dissertations
from the weird old farting choir lady
solely and sorely a teenage condition
that had thirteen-year-old
budding iconoclast yours truly
turning my Catechism book cover
into a Bic pen stew of lost religion graffiti
I can still see that book
I still know it was Jesus, Mary,
Joseph and a couple of disciples
on the gun metal grey cover
a future pen and ink master I was not
but my effort to turn the cover figures
into the ribald members of the
rock group KISS still pleases me
Saint Michael
Stipe
was
right on…
Oh, Life,
it’s bigger
Berry Boulevard Blues
on top of me in the afterglow
her left palm on my forehead
right index finger on my pulse
the midnight breeze of her voice
I never get tired of how I make
your heart race and your temperature rise
in the reckoning of bluegrass dawn
an honest woman in crystalline daylight
away from the sparkling darkness of night
where her lush emerald pupils would widen
and no matter what the mixer happened to be
she would smack her lips and say Maker’s Mark
feather boa slung over a Motel 6 chair
transistor AM radio crackling
Patsy Cline singing Crazy
her arm around my waist in my Hikes Point basement
right index finger through a belt loop in my blue jeans
her eyes fixing on the Blues Brothers lithograph
long green menthol Nat Sherman smoldering
short explanation for hiding out in Indiana
you don’t understand, I was having a nervous breakdown
smacking her lips and saying it was dry champagne
not parting her lips through a dry long-goodbye kiss
you don’t understand, I can’t move up to Wisconsin with you
damn near twenty years and not a peep out of her
the hazel hollow of her eyes in the meth mugshot
gone baby gone on the wrong side of the river
Camp Lejeune Redux
Even if you or a family member
never came in contact
with the water at Camp Lejeune
If you or a family member
were ever married to a Poet
you may be entitled to compensation
MEMPHIS
The Reagan Years had just ended
but the whole shooting works
still shut down on Sundays
not a drop of liquor for sale
unless you did not fear
following the sweetheart
street urchin motioning you
onward into the back alley
where the sweetheart was
proven absolutely right
boot for sale
in old Schlitz Malt Liquor bottles
drinking that back alley boot
up high overlooking the water
underneath the park sign etched
In Memory of the Old South
catching a boot-kick buzz
a Yankee Kid feeling a shiver
knowing not knowing
what drove those heartfelt blues musicians
all the way north to Chicago
decades later the New Millennium
but it was still the Same Old
uniquely trustworthy place
where you could open up the
Yellow Pages with absolutely no fear
of The Memphis Law screwing you
of The Memphis Belle scamming you
just sweet-kick booty for sale
chocolate thunder groove
the afterglow spent going down
to that park with that sign
smoking a joint from The Belle’s stash
kissing like lovers in that
goddamn beautiful river town
desire
he wanted
a partner
in crime
and all other
matters of
the heart
Robert M. Zoschke was raised in and around Chicago, where he was a winner of the Chicago Sun-Times essay contest on Best Neighborhood Bars. He co-edited and contributed writing to the anthology Reflections Upon the 50th Anniversary of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. His 2008 book of fiction and nonfiction—Door County Blues—was recognized as a Number One Bestseller in Door County, Wisconsin, where he lives and writes. His 2010 book of poetry and photographs—Made in America—was named a Top Three Book of The Year by England’s Purple Patch Poetry Magazine, which also named him a Top Three Overseas Poet. Since 2013 he has been the editor of the literary arts annuals CLUTCH and THE LOWDOWN. His 2021 biography of T. Kilgore Splake—The Road to Splake—was nominated for the State of Michigan’s Notable Book Award. His crime novel—OLD SCHOOL, Volume One of the Chi Town Trilogy—was published in 2022.
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