Safety Sloop

Bleeding warmth to savage winds
I lean against the coastlines bend…
Against the sea, the farthest pale,

I push against the winters swell.

I pull myself into the wind

until the lee is lost again

and that which may be there

Is left for me to find it.

No whale or shoal upon this sea

Will stop to bind or hinder me

Unless the craven crawl returns

me safely to the leeward shore.

Michael S Brady

Holiday Goat

Holiday Goat

                                                                                                     

In fields that spring the newborns played,

By summer all the doelings caged

Now only sheep remain at graze

To see the coming winter.

From the old I take the young

And leave the damned to mourn the loss

In faith that ritual sacrifice

Will ease this doubt I’m given to.

Sheltered under broken rock 

Yet high above the thing to come

I edge the razor with a strap

And dream of two door-ed Cadillac’s.

From here the harshness shines in waves

To break on meat that smells of salt

And colors bruised to bloody rust,

(A grit that slowly wears in time.)

Winged and weightless the flies hover,

Sure that in the intensity of sheen

A sweetness is upon them,

Just as I mistake the agony of effort

For a prayer of submission.

Razor strapped and polished slab

I cleanse to myth my ruthlessness.

Mike Brady 2010 (revised 3/12)