Sunday, February 21, 2010


Vaya con dios. the blooms
the frozen orange juice cans
sweat in the trees. what
are those trees.

are they Saturday
trees. an easy day
they say. the green hummingbirds
leaving town.

they are always telling lies.
they don’t know nothing
like I know nothing.
Go to hell.

Saturday is another
lie without trees: the
newspaper’s headlines
thaw out across the

tablecloth. who can read it.
god’s not home
in the trees she flies
inside of.

I’m not home. no one
eats breakfast. they suffocate
in pillows. Leave me
alone. her hair, etc.

god is an apartment with
magnolias blooming lemony above
a table & chair.
how long did we live there.


Totalfeckineejit said...

Lonely and surreal and melancholy.Loved the last stanza best.Excellent poem John.

John Hayes said...

Thanks, TFE! & it was all true.

Irina said...

The poem has a interesting buld up towards its ending and it flows beautifully. Congratulations on your book, it's a great achievement.

John Hayes said...

Hi Irina: Glad you liked the poem, & thanks for the kind words about the book!

Poetikat said...


Just wanted you to know that I'm enjoying reading your poems at my leisure. Your work is a source of inspiration to me on many levels. I'm so pleased to have a copy of your fine collection.

This poem is another powerful one. That "Go to hell" really catches you up short.

I love the "blooming lemony" pairing and so many more images and ideas in this.


John Hayes said...

Hi Kat: I really enjoy the thought of you having the book! Thanks for stopping by & taking the time to comment, but even if you didn't I know you're enjoying the poems!