Six Poems

Jay McCoy

pet rock

she saw some guy from california tell johnny carson about his great idea and she liked it / actually she loved it / she had that sense of humor / that whimsy / but she would whoop me good for calling her whimsical / she was too practical for that nonsense / she definitely wouldn’t go out and buy a pet rock at the store / she would probably have to go all the way to Lexington even to get it / and they’d probably be sold out anyway / and she’d have to wait / you know they wouldn’t have it right away down at the Magic Mart / she could just get one out of the yard / there were plenty good choices to adopt in that little stretch of gravel by the driveway out back / between the street and the yard / she did pick her one out / let me help with the selection / i even got my own / we stood in the backyard for hours / picking up rocks and stones / dusting them off / rolling them around in our hands / exchanging some / grasping them in our palms / completely encasing them under fleshy fingers / she chose a more muted grey somewhat flat stone / it had a rough edge with a chip / but smooth everywhere else / i went with a darker one almost black with flecks and lines of red running through it / it was bumpy / but it felt good in my almost 8-year-old hands / i named mine geronimo / he was my favorite of the chiefs / mother called hers hudson / said it was for a man in the movies / she kept hudson in her purse / said i could keep geronimo in my pocket / even take him to school if i wanted / we took them to myrtle beach with us the next few years / i even remember sometime in the early 80s / had to be before 85 / we were on the beach for our annual family pilgrimage with the campbells / and she pulled hudson from her purse / not the same purse as before / she would change purses with he seasons / but it was the same hudson / she had embellished him with a smiley face at some point over the last six or seven years / but still the same / when she passed a few years ago / i found hudson still in her purse / his smiley face a little faded / almost gone if i were honest / but i still saw it

California Night Sky

This California sky is really beautiful,

especially at night, like tonight, another

Friday night, the third Friday in August.

We return to the barracks after the show

in inky darkness equaled only by stagnant

waters of Lake Joann back home, waiting

for something to bite, sitting for hours

wrapped in pitch with a random sprinkling

of sparkling fireflies. At home, Appalachians

may block the Kentucky view sometimes. Here,

all the land – low, rolling – draws heaven

close, so close you can reach up, open palms,

stretch your fingers out, collapse in, &

collect stars – pull your hands down, full

of light, &, oh boy, that big yellow moon,

Green Corn Moon, Blueberry Moon, smiling

right back at you. In my next letter, I must ask

Dad if he’ll walk Mother to the upper garden,

hold her hand, & look up

at this moon with me.

At sunset on the beach,

Frank incessantly whispers

in my left ear. He rambles on

like overgrown saltspray roses

about bukkake, boys,

& bullshit, distracting

me from the candy

apple red dune buggy bounding

over mounded sand, cutting down

seagrass, and coming directly

towards us. That next

morning, the sun didn’t wake

him and I never sleep.

just what would you say / to me / would you beseech me / plead lovingly with me / to just get up / would you kneel at my side / would you cradle my wounded head in your arms / nestle me into the bend of your elbow / so closely i can smell the city’s crisp winter chill / on your sweater / would you be as concerned for me / as you ran through so much rain & snow / to reach me / if i happened to call it / hail / you would certainly disagree / would it matter / that i really was as uncomfortable / in those newspaper headlines / as you always were / during those late night conversations / that got a little too personal / despite how it may appear / i’ve always said / that i’ve never been very good / at parties / or in front / of too many people / when it’s just us / the two of us / one on one / that’s when I’m much better / you say you’ve been bad / perfectly disgraceful / i’d say I’ve been the same / even more so at times / i’ve come out of many a stupor / not knowing whom it was I had been / kissing / just trying to lock / eyes / from that well-worn end / of a well-known bar / in moments like these / i have to wonder / perhaps if you’d had given me / a little taste / of your attention / in the first place / i would never have asked / such silly questions / & probably / most likely / would never have actually / collapsed

7 Minutes in Heaven

I never cared

much for closets,

but for you, Frank,

I’d go back

on my word,

take my chances

groping blindly

in the dark.

how nice

it would be / to be your shadow / cast in 4 or maybe 5 o’clock light / i don’t want / to seem creepy / but it would be / so very nice / to always be / around you / & with you / your constant companion / to hug / & caress you / embrace you / so close / we’d be packed like sardines / we could hang out / maybe just grab a yogurt / or perhaps have a coke / maybe / just stroll around midtown / say off fifth / or down fifty-third / maybe let’s see / what’s new at the moma / now / it may not be / nearly as breath-taking as a Leonardo / or as memorable as a Michelangelo / but rather / an ill-fated or vapid abstract expressionistic attempt / or some neo-rubbish return / to a forgotten maybe futuristic form / i’m just putting this out there / i don’t want to scare you / but it would be so glorious / to just hang / even dangle / precariously / from your sloped shoulders / maybe slide slightly underfoot / yet never loosen my grip / no matter what / i don’t mind being gray / you see / i have a penchant for darker shades / in fact / i look better in black / brighter colors work better / against your skin tone / although we share similar ancestry / & that unfortunate tendency / to freckle / & burn under bright summer sun / if we were ever / to vacation together / at the beach / or on the coast / maybe martha’s vineyard / i would insist that you choose / west or east / or beyond u.s. borders / how about Marrakech / whichever your choice / i’ll be there / just waiting for your answer / come what may