I am 40 years old. I think grey hairs are good for poets. I gave my life to poetry in 2001. That's when I abandoned Corporate America in Atlanta, and moved to the sleepy desert town of Las Cruces, New Mexico. I teach English in High School. I run a chapbook press called Grandma Moses Press. My next chapbook will be released by Night Ballet Press in late 2016. Here is my website: Tim Staley, poet.
Ed died and we gather bowls of guacamole at his home.
I see his tools, his workshop, his engine parts,
his pint glasses stuffed with pens and markers
and his daughter jerked from her own monotony
to decide on all these things.
Ed had just taken a shower, was in a towel on his bed,
glasses in his hand, not a drop of liquor in his system,
a bead of blood left a wobbly line beneath his nose.
He’d been cleaning up for a party he’d never get to
as if the liquor had been saving him...
only a user would say that.
I use as many chips as I can, we all do,
still the guacamole greys and blackens
faster than we can finish.
©2016 Tim Staley