John W. McEwers Poems

The armies of childmen
will clash as foretold
by the black friday ad.
will crash against the gates
...

Worms crawl where hair once flowed in a mane that Black Stallion would kill Secretariat to have along his back.
Maggots eat out the remaining globs of decay from the brain that once would have made Carl Sagan beat up Neil Degrasse Tyson for the chance to pick.
A coffin creaks beneath the weight of the earth that once shook with his every step, surrounding the bones once surrounded by a soul not even Otis Redding could hope to match.
The hands of Michelangelo and the feet of Fred Astaire.
...

Graffiti can be washed
with a pressure hose.
But how does one pressure wash a mind?
How does one spray away the smell?
...

Well shiver me timbers
me laddies and me lassies
y'all have a fine shine in me eyes
when me beers turn the color o' me money.
...

Silhouettes are just so effing beautiful that I start fires just to see 'em.
Throw matches in the gas tanks of cheap cars if there's a crowd near enough by.
Stop watering my yard in the hopes that a dry heat will spark the brush.
I market myself as an electrician to poor saps looking for work on the cheap,
...

As a young man, I did that thing,
those things,
that woo the woman.
...

If this poem is to be translated to all the languages of the world
so that all the children can read it,
I hope you all study and learn good
for it will prepare you to take this world into the future
...

Gnawing hunger never manages to sate itself,
even though all it does is gnaw.
Hunger is doing it wrong,
cause when I gnaw something,
...