Stem-Winder
We’ll join in protest around favors-spent praising
fate-cakes wherever the green apple leaves.
We’ll circle in song the meandering candlelight
vigil our voices savoring bold freedom-flavors.
We’ll stand tall against the fogged-radical
mirror our thick-skin too proud-history to mourn.
We’ll hold tight our riled tongues not to waste
our lifetime allotment of fuck-you’s
and sail rag-tagged aboard the once-banned Howl
from empathy-port to title-wave Beat.
We’ll forward-answer the Poet-Captain’s call
spirited by rain the color of wind to a rebel-dance
on the lyric-stern our full pleasure-pearled.
We’ll paw at shadows of seagulls ha-haaing
witness the self-conscious sun rising blood-orange
on our best horizon enlightened & closed-fisted.
Onward!
 The One I’m Worrying AboutÂ
There were rumors that someone of significant importance
was coming to our small town. The reasons were undetermined.
The signs were everywhere. Barns collapsed with the hay still green.
The ocean coughed up a wealth of ideas. Sailors napped on nude
beaches curled up like embryos, burning. Lambs huddled together
speaking Latin. A message in a bottle washed ashore containing
the left eye of Verdi with surgical instructions. We suspected
it was Jesus coming again; the odor of atonement wafted thick
as a milkshake in the air. My neighbor took her wash off the line.
Two moons fastened themselves to Orion’s Belt. The cartographer
put flowers on his brother’s grave & in the middle of preparations,
a child with golden skin was born.
The best option at this point was to serve vegetables.
Stay away from the red meat and country gravy.
There was a lot to digest without getting choked up.
Clarence Allan Ebert has written extensively throughout his lifetime in numerous genres including short fiction, flash, news reporting, feature articles, and poetry. After receiving his Juris Doctorate and practicing law largely in the area of immigration and refugee law, he’s written numerous articles on U.S. immigration policies and practices. He published his first poem in 1978 and is coming out with his full collection of poetry soon, titled A Small Town Many Years Ago. It was started during the COVID pandemic. As the title indicates, he was born in a small town years ago and writes poetry as a passion with a special determination to maintain relevance as a baby boomer in a fiercely competitive wacky increasingly AI-generated world. Baby Boomers unite!!
Image: Kabelleger / David Gubler, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
