Sunday, 5 November 2017

4 Poems by Anthony Watkins

Seven-Thirty Sunset

As grandmother and toddler turn to home,
the Hispanic boy with gold necklace
runs through a back yard
and the Haitian girl tosses
a worn brown basketball to her nephews


life flows out onto the narrow
streets of Lake Worth
in the hot yellow air
turns colors
black in silhouette.


An almost chill rustles uncut palms
and thrusts paper wrappers
against sagging chain-link fences
nine o’clock sunset
is still two months away


but the thin old man
steps into the street and closes
the door on his Chevy
glad to be home
before dark.


The Broken Samovar

The broken samovar
drips water
the charcoal hisses
but tea is made,
says the market man.

So, it is,
the rulers,
though mostly rotten
rule anyway,
the shop keeper
pays bribes
not taxes,
wonders which is lower.

The merchant
and magistrate
drink tea
while his wife
carves goat
for the korma.

The son plays
on the floor,
a metal matchbox
bomber flies
in his hand
he says
“look at me,
I am America!!!”


The Red Chair

So much undone,
always,
I settle into
my wingback.

I try not to recall
the tax bill, dishes,
inspections,
editing, and still I
think of
responsibility for
dead parents.

I tire trying
not to think,
knowing I will
not succeed, organizing,
doing, nor not thinking
forty-two things
I should do.

Sick, I settle,
she finds something
easy to watch
I find relief in
parents passing
what doesn’t get
done remains.

I am
not dying
today.  


Quantum Mechanics

Tiny two cell machines,
attended by tiny two cell guys
in greasy overalls and one cell
Mario Bros style caps

Ruggedly handsome,
with one cell arms attached
and faces like
well organized amoebas

Over in the corner a geeky scientist
argues with a red headed mathematician
about string theory
and the time space continuum

And the little Quantum mechanics backs
the fine tuned two cellers up
and drive off between them
so small they never notice.


Bionote

Anthony Watkins of Greenacres, Florida, says of himself, "As one of the most public lives ever lived by a private citizen, there is little that isn't already available at Facebook, Goodreads, or Betterthanstarbucks.org and countless other places.  Poet, writer, construction worker, salesman, truck driver, climber into the attics of total strangers, father and husband, and all around one of the luckiest men on the planet."

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