Poetry by Cher Guevara

      Achim Hepp CC


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Comedown: A Fragment

The gig is over…another one in the bag on another year’s worth of shows…thirty so far…not counting TLT shows…not bad…not the most intense tour I’ve done…I think that was a couple years ago when I pulled fifty solo shows during road season…and certainly better than last year…when I was misunderstood in the wilderness…

The gig is over…another theater…another late night…driving home in a borrowed car…speeding down the interstate…going 65…70…75…80…85…getting the little fucker just outside of 90…hoping there’s no cops cruising this late…what a scene…being nicked in a borrowed car, covered in glittering war paint, heavy stones covering my fingers and a purple moon around my neck…

The gig is over…the moon shining silver on my stones…driving past my day time stomping grounds…would they recognize me in this natural state?...would it be a shrug?...or a total freakout?...another place where I pushed my luck too far…where when push comes to shove “We just don’t like your kind around here”…

The gig is over…I’m finally relaxed…speeding down the interstate…with the songs of my adolescence blaring through the speakers…a respite from spending all week breathing fire and telling twisted tales to dewy-eyed reporters…yes the Revolution moves on…but it feels like a personal victory tonight…

The gig is over…all that’s left is a Marlboro marked with pink stains…and a midnight martini to allow me to breathe fire again in the morning…




Professionalism: A Chant

“Do you think you look professional?”
No.
I look like a human being
Who lives, loves, and weeps.
Who sings, laughs, and bleeds.

“Do you think you look professional?”
No.
Feel this flesh.
This ain’t no polyester.
You can’t buy this off-the-rack.

“Do you think you look professional?”
No.
My heart ain’t wrapped in plastic
And put on the shelf
Marked Premium Choice Cuts.

“Do you think you look professional?”
No.
My skin is too crisscrossed
From decades of private wars
That you can’t begin to imagine.

“Do you think you look professional?”
No.
I’ve been reborn and resurrected
In dusty theaters and barroom stages
But never from a copy machine.

“Do you think you look professional?”
No.
You can’t wrap a tourniquet around my sleeve
And think my soul
Is gonna wither and fall off.

“Do you think you look professional?”
No.
I look like someone who has been living
Instead of slouching, hunched and broken
Anxiously awaiting my ascent to the top.

“Do you think you look professional?”
No.
And every night I get on my knees
And I thank all the gods and goddesses of the ages

That I never will.

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Cher Guevara is from Avon, IN. They've spent the past decade in the Midwestern Poetry Underground, flooring audiences and earning massive critical acclaim for their hard-hitting verse and uncompromising live performances. You can find them at run-down theaters and drag dive bars throughout the area. Their work has appeared in numerous rags, mags, and journals. They have several books under their belt, their latest, Valley Blues, is available from Writing Knights Press.

Photo courtesy of M. Rosethorn.

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