will you ever read this?
will you even read this?
we have seen the darkest side of freedom
flags on staffs wielded as weapons
the misinterpretation of Gadsden
the Battle Flag of Northern Virginia
co-opted by a misinformed majority
a context to perpetuate points of view
that could be only be described as expiring.… Continue Reading...
i am the exile, the dreamer,
i am the ghost who blesses the slumber of your sleep.
i am the autumnal draft which crosses your pillow in the night.
little spacey, i am the skeleton who sleeps in your closet,
i am the turner of the doorknob in the dark.… Continue Reading...
our next door neighbors on Ashby Street
were a decade older than my parents.
they felt an intrinsic responsibility to
impact their wisdom on our young family.
their most consequential advice
was to have our family join
the congregational church
that they belonged to-
in the City of Groton.… Continue Reading...
In La Boheme
A suicide mission
Than the rest
For more poetry by Royal Young his Instagram page is:
during the decade
of my childhood
revolved around what my parents
for my sixth birthday, my mother booked an event,
in a private room
off of the main seating area
at the local McDonald’s.
parents could rent a room for a
celebration, and skip the lines
at the counter,
for double cheeseburgers,
or the Happy Meal.… Continue Reading...
during the 1970’s, even in my small riverside village,
a certain social order revolved around
what type of swimming pool
was installed on your property.
the scientist who installed the first
solar panels i had ever seen
did not have a pool.… Continue Reading...
my father moved into a first floor apartment
of an old Victorian house at the edge
of the Thames River.
i enjoyed the every other weekend
arrangement of the divorce.
his apartment was so unlike
my home during the other
twenty seven days of the month.… Continue Reading...
my family moved to a neighborhood
that sprouted up during the post-war period,
around an elementary school
that was built in 1953.
the expansive playing fields of the school
were our dominion.
street hockey until the first snow,
nerf football before class and at recess,
whiffleball nearly year round,
baseball after the Little League season ended.… Continue Reading...
on game days, my mother would fill paper grocery bags
with popcorn cooked on our kitchen
stove. the pots were lined with a thin layer
of vegetable oil, heated to the point
where kernels popped on contact.
these bags of popcorn kept the kids
distracted during the tedious
company softball games.… Continue Reading...
my mother had her first date
with the man who would become my step-father
on a sweltering July night.
i was playing basketball in our driveway, the aging hoop
dangling above the garage door
by rusty nails we kept banging back in that would one day
be rebuilt by him.… Continue Reading...