Ron Stock Poems
Comments about Ron Stock
You Don't Gotta Go To No God-Damn School To Be A Poet
My best friend of forty-five years died not too long ago
and like the fool I used to be I reacted with machismo.
I was building a home on a mesa of wild rabbits and sage,
thinking about my pal I was depressed, angry, in a rage.
I climbed near the top of a ten-foot ladder in this crummy mood,
afraid those feelings of my old friend's death might intrude
on my thoughts as I hammered a nail into a piece of soffit wood
and lost my precious balance as a man possessed of death should.
The ladder fell away, my left boot caught, the eyelet hooked, ...
Now the hail - was a beast
With its ice - and its snow
And its plume
And the gale - brought the reef
Spared one life - took the boat
Luck was due
Next a wave - from the sea