Raindog RD Armstrong - Moonday Poetry Reading

Hard Truth

Once I wrote
“The past eyes
Me like a hungry dog”

I was cockier
Back then
Believing I still
Had my mojo
But that was before
I saw my last
Days before I
Knew the pain
And the real true
Fear that
A hungry dog
Might be drawn to
Investigate

But now I fear
That no dog is hungry
Enough to make
The effort
Choosing
Instead to
Keep searching

When I see that
Dog again
He will merely
Sniff once
Twice
And move on

It’s hard to describe….

It’s hard to describe
Sometimes
It’s like waiting
For that first
Drop of rain
To fall on
The old gray
Wooden deck

As if that
First drop
Held so much
Such promise
And hope
Fecund with life
As if it is
The first
First drop

The anticipation
And dread of
That moment
The heart in your
Throat hand
Fluttering near
Your chest
Barely touching

That sense that love
Is near at hand

That strong

That is what I
Felt this afternoon
For no reason while
Doing the dishes
On a gray
Afternoon
Not thinking of
You or anyone.

Bar Story #2

The guy on the stool
Three spots away
Is telling his new
Friends – a guy and
A gal – a story that
Sounds fishy to me.
He’s a little drunk
And talking louder
Than necessary
Since the bar is
Quiet at 5 PM.
The story is about
How he knifed a
Guy for hitting
On his old lady
And dumped him
At Sardine Cove.
The gal says
You’re kidding right?
And he says
Naw I’d never kid
About something like that.
She is leaning over to
Hear his response
And her shirt is riding up
Revealing her shield

Later I was talking
To the bartender
I knew that story was fishy
How’d you know that?
He heard that same story
A few nights ago from
Another guy here.
Why would you brag
About something like that?
Bartender didn’t even bat an eye.
Sure beats sitting at home
In the dark listening to
The walls move.