photo from Norman Rockwell Museum
from the series “The Empath Dies in the End”
Praise Jesus and Rockwell
1 (Tony Brewer) The gunshot of autumn walnuts blasting a barn tin roof shatters the quiet riverine scene Blinded by watery glare yet intent on staring down the sun Certain of seeing something there where wind whips up rapids - but it’s water doing its thing 2 (David L O'Nan) I live like a retro bum I feel like the ancient young Praise Jesus and Rockwell Something left dangling like flashbacks from the last century I dream in flashbacks. Very rarely moving forward. To face reality like a robot. As we are all supposed to be these days. So maybe I’m not a bully Do I push and shove you? Shake you and break you? The glamour of reflections in mirrors never appealed to me. I could perhaps just cut my whiskers dangerously. Not to care anymore How I’d look in your convenient stores, Maybe I just want to dance to “Born to Run” Instead of “Nowhere to Run” So if the itch became a little too long, maybe you’ve figured out the bite Have I become that malaria embedding itself inside the bite? Left my imprint into your heart’s delight, not that blonde looker. Not that Adonis that you call your hammer. No, that regurgitated hooker. The one hanging out by fat-whistled daddies with meth promises. Now the local suited up weatherman says rain and storms are coming. Maybe to cuddle in your psychotic brain. The wind begins to gust, the walnuts scatter the yard. Crunch after crunch. The squirrels look at us with disrespect. Doesn’t feel like Jesus here. Doesn’t even feel like Rockwell. Doesn’t feel like the dustbowl, Doesn’t even feel like a sexual revolution. Doesn’t feel like love, It just feels like morbid hate. It feels like crickets chirping like lasso whips to warn the martyrs down from the trees. And break us into powdered ashes as we watch that American Flag barn burn to the ground. Suddenly I see Jesus and I see Rockwell. What good does it do me now? Do they baptize us in renamed ponds? Do they dress us up like obsolete Americana? Current bio for Fevers of the Mind’s David L O’Nan editor/writing contributor to blog. Poetry by Tony Brewer : “You and I are Human Beings” “the Seashell & the Clergyman” Paperback & Kindle version of Cursed Houses is now available from David L O’Nan on this link below https://amzn.to/3VQudCI The History of Projectiles by Tony Brewer
Fevers of the Mind 