Poetry: Praise Jesus and Rockwell by Tony Brewer and David L O’Nan

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 itch 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