Two Poems by Sissy Buckles

Dear man

And the one morning
she woke up and finally knew
she’d had enough
and screwed her courage
to the sticking point
and announced out loud
that she was leaving
in the very next second
her beloved dog’s wooden brush
came hurtling like a rocket
splitting open her scalp
the first thought
damn that man has a good aim
next thought shit
is that hot red blood
streaming down my forehead
and then that dear man
had the grand idea
that holding a lit cigarette
close to her face
was a good idea
to convince her to stay.


Hells Angels San Berdoo Chapter – 1965

(dedicated to old freedom fighters everywhere)

Slipping away from the family crowded round
meatballs and cheese bubbling together
in 1960’s vintage fondue pot
for a quick Christmas beer down the street
at my old hangout The Spring Valley Inn
where I first saw roots band Beat Farmers
loud and plowed on that rough dinky stage,
rushing out to catch their last set
after working the midnight shift
my college job at Tower Records;
a few blocks away the titty-bar lot is packed
as I enter welcoming lounge gloom
squinting a bit from Cali sunshine,
regulars lined up with their usual,
push coins down the music machine
play some Patsy Cline and Social D
try to subdue that prickly feeling of holiday dread
3PM bartendress has her smiling
Hee-Haw hottie look going on
pool tables and dart board deserted today
and no hard questions to be answered
this crowd’s only interested in drinking
I even get to see a fight
over a stolen pack of cigs with a
grizzled old dude parked in corner booth
wearing leather vest and a ponytail
quickly spits out dentures
before trouncing stupid kid half his age
while a burning Ring of Fire wails in the background
to this biker ballet contretemps –
I take my cue and mosey back to suburbiaville
where smoked turkey on the patio barbecue
should be just about done cooked.


One Response to “Two Poems by Sissy Buckles”

  1. “Dear Man” is incredible. Loved this one. Great word flow!

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