Whispered glee at the candy bleeding into
the mindless one, from cauldrons swirling
In wrapped confection. a dancing skeleton
Singing "I ant got no body, heard from
Down the spooktacular street.

"A spoonful of sugar a ghostly chant,
" Candy with no body, no sins charged to eat,

The owl with eyes wide open swoops unseen,
Its talons take a chocolate mouse fallen from
A sack or two nibbled to freedom now ingested
All that is noticed is a single feather of the street.

"Trick Or Treat,
"Your soul we'll eat,
"Be it sugary, be it sweet,
"We'll eat our fill on this hallows eve,


Jack-o'-lantern with eyes a glow, with each sweet
Delight you hear a cackle and glow, as an empty
Head gets fuller, this ghostly candy of sugar, melted
On orange skin, a face of fright now sugared glow.

Many tales told on this night, but when that
Door beckons a call, remember these words

"Trick or treat, penny or a sweet,

Be it cane or be it gold, be it silver or be it cold.
Let the ghouls have their fun, for soon the clock
Will turn and all the chocolate will be gone to eat.

I sit in the judgement seat awaiting my fate. I thought I could get away with it, but I was wrong. I didn't mean for it to happen, it seemed funny at the time. I didn't think the cat would really mind. Just a few pieces of tape on the little cats paws. I didn't think it would be that bad, now I wish I had used the dog. When the little cat was let loose he had a panic attack. He rolled and flopped trying to get it off and then I heard it go crash. Into the china cabinet, as he was headed for the door. I tried to catch it before it hit the floor. My mothers favorite china, a giant serving plate. Now I sit here waiting for my fate. I begged for here to punish me, but she said oh that will never do. I want this to be a family affair, I want your father here too.

I hate you and I want you to die. Your immature and you cannot be responsible. Back and forth the words fly. Doors slam, and tempers flare. A child rebels and a parent cries. Plates are shattered and harsh words are said. A door slams shut and a heart is broken. Lives are torn apart when we sling arrows of discontent at one another.

and i am eleven again
feeling like tomorrow
is a couple yesterday's ago
smothered in cayenne pepper
hot enough to take off taste buds
and tonight i am eating a meal
only worth burning
it tastes like my parents anniversary
it tastes like a zinfandel
left on the counter too long
it's a bad story, see
there's no silverware
'cause my mom sold it
to keep the lights on
and somewhere in heaven
somebody in a suit
doing commentary
on this fiasco
is telling someone else
in a suit that
"you have to eat love with your hands"
so we sit, four plates on the table
for the two of us
my brother's long gone
dad's even further away
& he's not the one who's buried
i carry both their names like anchors
that i cannot unmoor from
while she looks at the empty table
and says something about the news
she says something else
but she's not talking
we aren't proud of this, see
my dad likes to wax his car
he's proud of it
and my mom says
she sees a lot of him in my hands
says, i touch the things i find
like they didn't belong
to people sleeping in the ground
she says i touch photo albums
the same way-
you know,
i never used to believe
that history could repeat itself
not until i could
fast forward seventeen years
and still wake up to smoke alarms
how i would go into our kitchen
to find it empty
and the dinner smoldering
& my mother in her bedroom
looking through family photos
like it's a just another summer day
and the sirens are just the birds
i don't ask, i never say a word
in this moment
i am an archeologist
afraid to dig up the past
cause history repeats itself-
you see
my brother is dead
and my father is gone
they have been for some years now
and my mother
sometimes forgets
and sets their place at the table
like they're still here
and in the confusion
ends up ankle deep
in pictures of how it used to be
she let's dinner burn
and douses it in red pepper
hoping i won't know the difference

i don't watch home movies
hate them
reason being because
when i was young
i was looking for a movie
my mother
had recorded for me
and accidentally
put one in the vcr
that i'm not sure
i was supposed to see
i know the obvious response
"uh oh, ****"
sorry to disappoint
they were only marked with dates
  1991
on live television
montel williams asks my father
"how can you just throw
your child away like a piece of trash?"
   1994
i spend so much time
in the emergency room
that my parents stop
penciling in growth marks
on the frame
of my bedroom door
i always thought
it was because they believed
i would never grow out
of this sickness
sometimes i believe
the reason that they
never bought me a dream catcher
was because they never thought
i'd live long enough
to see them come true
   1996
i am eliminated
from a spelling bee
because i didn't know
the 'dad' is silent in 'family'
   2013
before i got into poetry
i used to do standup
none of my jokes were funny
one of the other comics
tells me my skits are dry
sometimes sad
he says "why don't you joke
about something like your family?"
so i say
"i never wore any sunblock
because i didn't want anything
to keep me from my father"
i say "what do you call christmas
without lights or heat?"
before he has a chance
to answer
i say "1997. better yet
why don't you
make like a dad and
leave"
   2014
every time we drive
past the hospital
my mother reminds me
how much it cost to save my life
like she'd rather
have her money back
she doesn't have to say
that sometimes she wishes
it was me who had died
instead of my brother
i can hear it in the way
she says "love you"
sometimes i imagine
that if i were to die
that she
would pick out a casket for a child
because she never loved
the person i became
yesterday i told my father
how close i'd been
to suicide lately
and he said
"that's my boy,
livin on the edge.."
and i can't remember
if i laughed
or cried

To be in the top of that familiar old tree , throwing apples down for my friends to eat !  Gathering her yield for Dad's fried pies , ammo of choice for crabapple fights ! Lip smacking best jelly you've ever eaten , warm milk with applesauce when we couldn't get to sleep ...A quick snack while mowing the yard , cornbread , sweet tea and apple butter !

Roll out the crust and lightly cover it with brown sugar. Cut up the peaches and add some cinnamon. Place the filling into the center and cover over with the hand rolled crust. Dust lightly with sugar and put into an oven at a decent heat. Sit back with a cup of hot tea and watch the magic take place. Smell the air until you smell the fragrance of paradise. Look at the crust to make sure it is crispy and golden brown. Turn off the oven, then open a window and place the pie to cool. Fix a *** of coffee and wait for family and neighbors to come around. Cut the pie into slices and serve it up with love. Watch how folks come together and laugh with sparkles in their eyes. This is how you make and enjoy a Georgia Peach Pie.

If I only had one wish to make
I would have wished your eyes to be a Wishing Well,
So that I could drop all my dreams about you into them
And I know you will make me lucky someday.

Dive down into
the Sea of Words,
flip my mermaid tail    
to the passersby.

Dive down deep
to the bottom
of the sea, the
very deepest depths
of this salty sea.

When I come up
to the surface again,
starfish weave shells
into my auburn hair,
while sirens sing
new words to me.

Vast expanse of
emerald waters,
Sea of Words
you are my home.