Poetry by Jim Trainer

                       Ross Griff CC



ANOTHER DAY OUT

knowing I’m not alone
I write this in the dark
at dawn
the frosted windows glowing
the world and me, we heave
it’s either growing or the weight of my time
is pulling me to the tides
of sod and mud that buy back all our lives
I’m at a point with loss
teetering
almost fully swung and snapped from the axis
of youth that yelled, was buoyant
youth that defied
cut back against streets of the home town
curling with hiss and steam
to take my brothers with lesser dreams
so many, dead and gone
these ghosts that phantom the screen
buckle at caste and role
rumble up and fissure the straight line
it’s your memory, that’s left the
door cracked, the
rolling wind, the doves
and warblers strange and alive
in this green, this wild and
bitter dawn. 





ITHACA for Katy

said she’d text
when she’s on the train
gets a notice to vacate on the 5th
would be gone by the 1st
but no one can take her dogs
til the 2nd
when her dad died she was left with him
and her momma didn’t care none
she took her rifle, with a broken clip
“I wouldn’t kill him anyhow.”
left the truck in the trees
took a photo of her Daddy an’ me
(outside the Merriam with a bottle--
whiskey and hair!)
knew she’d feel better up north at the shelter
where she could get help and meds
left the door wide open
and the photo album
and the box of shells
bruised like the bag of fruit she doubled back for
her last orange from her daddy’s groves,
the last time she’d be in Florida and alive. 

​
​

Curator at Going For the Throat, columnist for Into The Void, progenitor of stand-up tragedy™. Jim Trainer publishes a collection of poetry every year through Yellow Lark Press. To sign up for Jim Trainer's Poem Of The Week, visit jimtrainer.net.

---