Jeffrey Quattlebaum Poems

Sitting here in the sun
on a step of red brick
I feel like a beaten soldier
taking in the morning
...

With the game on the line
Eli wants some measurements
looks like he got it
It's 8: 48
...

the spider waits
in the center of her web
the sun shines on the sticky morning
dew drops
...

I reached for a half empty
warm beer
and knocked a roll of toilet paper
from the top of the television
...

Dirty twisted mouth
dry and sticky
smuggling
and implying
...

Unraveled and forgotten like a cat’s toy
a old stocking
under a unkempt bed
on a dusty wooden floor
...

O glory!
O glory!
Glory to my waxen soul!
In the middle of our long journey
...

I have never seen a pig in a graveyard mist
I have never shared a cigarette with the Pope
I have never drawn a
breath from
...

Bartender wipes the bar down
no entertainment for the night
he wipes and winks a nervous twitch
We're down to one-fifty
...