Ted Sheridan Poems

My gracious
Just look where the time has gone
I’ve been up all night long reading her suicidal letters
Narcissistically composed while eating a bottle of No Dose
...

They come complete with warts, scars and scabs and maybe they’re wearing
Glasses with thick lenses prescribed for their stigmatism or myopic eyes
Some have intermittent teeth and present only the tightest of closed mouth smiles
Putting a club foot or polydactyly hand forward to obtain those extra digits needed
...

The sun is hot today and the humidity is high
Tempers are flaring as the morning traffic gets heavy
Road hogs in tinted SUVs and teamster truckers in Peterbilts
Lap up any remaining sloppy seconds of Ethanol laced fuel
...

Her poems are like so many naked corpses piled into one mass grave
Buried there in an attempt to cover the stench of her life's work
Her jilted lovers and aborted children reach out from the other side
With dirt in their teeth and their placenta covered little hands and feet
...

He was not spared the hatred they felt
For he looked like all the rest of his kind
They knew him without knowing him
He was judged without trial or jury
...

It has been a dry couple of days
Drinking anything but water or beer
Seems unsatisfying to me
Four days ago I had my last drink of rum
...

I was thinking….

I haven’t heard from my friend Kowalski, it has been at least a year, probably longer.
Last time he messaged me he and his pet companion a cockroach named Caldwell
...

She sneaks up from behind me
and with her long fingernails
...

In parallel universes of black and white with Technicolor dreams in-between
The lady Sara surfaces just above the rest with soft and ancient breath
To calm and smooth my venture's rippled boundaries
Wherein I have only come this far with so much left to go beyond the fold
...

Inside the rumors; were the secretive touches
and the corner of the eye glances.
The neighbors had seen them first; on a towel
out by the backyard plastic pool.
...