Ramblings...

The Story of Fathers III




Your words fall like pine cones
on a tin roof in the dead of winter.

My ears are wet tissue
being broken by your tears.

I feel the ghost caressing my shoulder
exposing and shuddering

thundering

cumbersome fear, a vile
stench that you detest more than any.

W. K. Medlen

Ramblings...

The Story of Fathers II



I'm worried about forgetting

your childhood-Roy Rogers-
you came into this world
       guns a blazin'
and thats how you want to leave this world.

What to do with this information?
       Something about your liver-
       and Birmingham-
       and the future.

I can't forget

You said you were proud of me
and I believe you.


THIS IS GOING TO HAPPEN
preparationpreparation

        mowing the grass
     tending the garden-

they don't mean that much anymore.

Epistle to David Bazan

Pedro the Lion,
     the cute untame

-beautiful-

                  Mr. Bazan,
why so melancholy?
Do Bands With Managers upset you?
                         Is it our undying
love
for American Flags?



you were no Cowardly Lion
who found
              a heart-

You were a fierce King
who relinquished
        his shield-

for Fewer Moving Parts.

Your unsmiling face is all we see
         slowly shaping the American youth

We can't see the pen and pad,
the Cold Beer and Cigarettes,
the Christmas Whiskey-

the God you don't see unshaping you
             more
                    and
                            more

W. K. Medlen