Two Poems by Hosho McCreesh

It’s Enough…

Let’s quit our worrying,
& be honest with ourselves,
with each other.

Let’s stop pretending that
this doesn’t end, for all of us,
in slaughter.

Let’s just strive to do
something beautiful
until then.

Let’s find a way
to celebrate that,

just

that.

——-

A Dark, Desperate
Kind of Luck…

…that’s what we hope for,
a grace in the face of defeat &
that same grace in the face of victory,
perhaps a break,
a gentle kind of
painless continuation…

or if not painless, then
we beg the gods:
Go easy on us…

We always know where to find suicide—

it sits in a smoky, dark back corner table
in a sweaty old jazz club,
years worth of spilt beer & teardrops
worked into the wood floor boards,
& there it sits,  eyes closed
while the lady in the blue dress
weeps out a tune.

There’s a kind of comfort in that.

I suppose there’s sense to be made of it all,
but only for prostitutes, & beggars,
scorpions, oxen & politicians.
Maybe the snarl-toothed boars understand.
The pyracantha & the billionaires definitely do.
But the rest of us are left
to our demons & ourselves…

& for us I say this:

Save
what can be
saved
& never
regret
the rest.

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