After a bit of reprieve and some time away, I am back in chapbook mode, plugging away at my goal of getting all caught up by the end of the year, and I’ve got to say guys, right now, my chances look good. I’ve just completed the sixth book, the seventh just needs a final proof, I’m waiting on a print copy of #8, and #9 is pending first proof. #10 is still in final edits, but I will be designing the cover probably this week. And, other than having odds and ends to go through to see if there’s anything worthwhile, there are ten chapbooks in all. There might be an eleventh, depending on how much I find in my poetry odds and ends pile, but the current assumption is that there isn’t going to be enough there to fill a book. We shall see.
Today, I get to say that I have #6 all ready and rolled out. Available on Amazon. (Though, the e-book version may take a few hours to a few days. I’ve done my part, so it’s just a waiting game to see when it appears on site.)
And, for something chosen from the new chapbook to share with you. The bare bones of this piece are a fossil, but it’s been edited so many times over the years that I can’t help but wonder how much of the original piece is even left.
When it rains
even clear water becomes muddy.
I wonder what it’s like
to be one of those people
who likes to stir things up.
I can only vaguely recall
the forked tongue you used
whenever you got caught telling stories,
because, over time,
the things you hate about people grow numb
even if the lessons that you learn from them
leave a scar.
You taught me not to trust easily,
that ‘friendship’ doesn’t guarantee honesty.
So, I’ve known people half of my life
who I’m still not sure I can trust
and that’s not their fault.
I can see you as you were.
I can call you a drama queen.
I can forget the color of your eyes,
and the spelling of your name,
but the lessons you etched into the marrow of me,
those don’t fade.