| Muses Review - Poetry - Fall 2005 |
| Back to: Poetry. |
| Charles P. Ries poetry: |
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| Charles P. Ries, Poet from Wisconsin |
| The poems are copyrighted to Charles P. Ries. Poems are published in Muses Review with permission from the author. |
| BIRCH STREET By Charles P. Ries Source: Monje Malo Speaks English, (2003) page 4. Sitting on the porch outside my walk up with Elaine watching the Friday night action on Birch Street. Southside's so humid the air weeps. Me and Elaine are weeping too. Silent tears of solidarity. She's so full of prozac she can't sleep and I'm so drunk I can't think straight. Her depression and my beer free our tears from the jail we carry in our hearts. Neighbors and strangers pass by in the water vapor. Walking in twos and fours. Driving by in souped up cars and wrecks. Skinny, greased up gang bangers with pants so big they sweep the street and girl friends in dresses so tight they burn my eyes. I can smell Miguel's Taco Stand. Hear the cool Mexican music he plays. Sometimes I wish Elaine were Mexican. Hot, sweet and the ruler of my passion, but she's from North Dakota, a silent state where you drink to feel and dance and cry. Sailing, drifting down Birch street. Misty boats, street shufflers and senioritas. Off to their somewhere. I contemplate how empty my can of beer is and how long can I live with a woman who cries all day. Mondays are better. I sober up and lay lines for the Gas Company. Good clean work. Work that gives me time to think about moving to that little town in central Mexico I visited twenty years ago before Birch Street, Elaine and three kids nailed my ass to this porch. ------------------------------------ Poet's Note: This poem is from Monje Malo Speaks English, page 4. I was leaving a street festival on a hot and humid night in August and I passed a porch with two people sitting on it. I went home and wrote this poem - it came very quickly. --------------------------------- YOU NEVER LEFT by Charles P. Ries Source: Odd (2004) p. 10 After you died, I kept you near. I brought you with me to parties. I placed you in the trunk of my car, close to my CD changer and the music we loved - together. I felt cheated to be left with only memories of you. You filled so much space. A nature so luminous it lit the dark river path we walked along that autumn before you left me - alone. So I'll keep you and set you on the table during poker night, or next to my pillow as I sleep, or amidst the floral arrangement at the museum ball. "You look lovely in brass and silver tonight. Is your lid screwed on tight? Would you mind if I shake you baby, pop your top and sprinkle you on my Caesar salad?" "Just look at them looking. They're all green with envy. I'm with the prize. One whose beauty they all wish they could posses." I think I will keep you with me forever. --------------------------------------------- Poet's Note: This poem is from Odd, page 10. I had read a wonderful poem by a Wisconsin poet named, Bruce Dethlefsen entitled, The Rest of You. This poem used cremation as a thematic device. I liked it so much I tried to write one myself. -------------------------------------------- |
| Rate Charles P. Ries poem: 5 = excellent 4 = very good 3 = satisfactory 2 = lacking depth 1 = never mind |
