Robert Charles Howard Poems

I’d jump at the chance to ride shotgun
on Henry’s medicine wagon
rolling from city to village
hawking 'Stickin’ Salve' and 'Oil of Gladness'.
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To better view the fairest stars of
Genesis, Keats or Kepler,
learned priests and lectors
of vertical transcendence
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It's a near scandal I say!
How could she do it
and where did she go
to get it done?
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It's been something of a while
since I tumbled down
out of the warmth and darkness
into this bright uncertain space.
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Prize of a difficult hunt
fresh meat seared in the fire pit:
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Meditation on Mark 10: 17 - 31

He departed in sorrow.
Where had he failed?
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The griffin outside my balcony
rumbled and shook
flipping Kansas City
upside down and back.
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The 64 squares on a chessboard
match the tally of my years –
some passed in red,
others in black -
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Rain clouds hover in the night
veiling the crystal moon -
spraying steady showers
on the hills and plains below.
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The urban cowboy swaggered in
sporting jeans and boots
and a quarter cigar.
Tipping his Sears-bought Stetson
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