In college, I studied creative writing as if it were a special discipline or a fast-moving train to somewhere divine. It wasn’t. It was more like a meandering, long-winding road that ended in a cul de sac. My, how I loved that cul de sac!
I took three poetry writing workshops. I loved them all.
While I wrote some incredible poetry in those days (or so they told me), I didn’t do much with it. I got a few poems published, but I was also captured by the fiction writing bug. Fast-forward to 2005. I found myself on desert sand, helping a former president build his legacy. My National Guard unit had been activated for a tour in Iraq.
After my return, I wrote some poems about the experience, and I managed to get one of them published. As far as I’m concerned, it’s one of the best poems I’ve ever written—in terms of literary excellence.
Today, I share “Cigar”, a poem first published at ++The New Verse News++ in 2008.
Cigar
By Allen Taylor
Drawn out deep,
like the upward concerns
of an intern. Captains delight
in late-night fatties, blue skies
dressed in vanilla, and star-
crossed lips ladled with love stains.
Free soil built this land. Death
may dance in the sun
but I'm taxed. Hand me a bill
of sale, this whore has the whole
damned country by the balls.
The king may know his legacy,
but where are his clothes, mind you?
The Right Wing spins
a new face while the Party
reminisces and the world
is made safe. For
democracy
is a costly business,
liberty a puff of smoke
in a courtroom.
Battlefield worms like us
seek security in slow-poppin' cherries
and close calls,
rockets red glaring past our bedtimes.
I'm fed the hell up with Hillians casting lots,
forgetting to shed light
on this year's stale,
burned-out
two-party topic.
Want more poetry? Leave a comment below. Want original fiction? Leave a comment below. What else would you like to see?
Check out Allen Taylor’s ++speculative fiction++. Image is AI generated by Substack.
Posted Using INLEO
