Robert Sheridan Poems

Mesolithic hunter-gatherers
Occupants rock-sheltered
Famine & clearances the latter
Depleted populace no census
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A strong, offensive smell
Offensive to all honesty
Disgusting odor – inferior;
Amateurish performances
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The light we once had has
now turned into the darkest
shade of gray - has painted
a picture that would envy
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Its rudder runs through the morning grass
In its wake, the dew a sea of tranquility;
Its early gray aura taps at window panes
As to Morse code a waking message;
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Set himself up
to be vulnerable
over & over again
kept letting another
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Around the world in circles turning
Earning what we can
Take a chance to light another’s day
Before their lives are blotted out
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American physician/hung in Pentonville Prison –
London, England on November 23rd, year 1910
for the murder of his un-beloved, & lovely wife
She mysteriously disappeared in January of that
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“If I don’t stand for something,
I’ll fall for everything” – no
substitutes, no exchanging;
Tired of being a giver – will
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Stacked on grocery shelves – kids view
Hallucinatory quality of a milk dream
Oddly shaped sizes floating in the bowl
Don’t want the breakfast of champions –
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But damned close
Medical science has predetermined
Maybe a flu, maybe an infection
Paragon of salutary well-being
...