Austin Brookner has published fiction and poetry in several literary journals. As a musician he has recorded with Nick Tosches, Marc Ribot, Tony Garnier, and Lenny Kaye. He was born in New York City and lives in Austin, Texas. Blue Eyes Shut I can remember waking in the morning To her still asleep, naked underneath the sheets My eyes tracking where the crevice in her Chest led to her concealed, sizable bosom And then towards her face, where there Shone the suggested light of morning And thinking to myself that I had Caught an angel, and that I was the luckiest Person in the world, and that Everything that had gone wrong Had actually gone right because it had led To her being in my bed for me To hold and to cherish. What were the odds that this creature From across the world would land up In this part of the country, in my home, I thought. And how quickly and strangely these Mornings of bliss and angels turned To repulsion and suffocation To where her mere sight and sound pushed me To swipe her out of my life with A machete not literally. And now with the promise of new love unfulfilled, I miss her And wish that I could wake up one more morning To the sight of her blue eyes shut. Aching If you set out on the path of most resistance, Better get used to endless heartache. You’ll need that, It’ll put the smile in your chest When you hear the word ‘Yes’. They say the past, It’s a very bad place To go. I think back And I’m embarrassed. Sometimes you just gotta forgive yourself, For everything. It’s not easy to do. I think it just takes time. The Most Beautiful Boy in Liberty Hill I was a beautiful young boy Now I’m an ugly old man I look in the mirror and think to myself I’m melting I had beautiful long blonde hair in my youth And I was born at the right time In the 60s and 70s it was a good time to be A strange beautiful boy I had more pussy than I knew what to do with I fathered two children that I know of And probably more that I do not know of My mother loved me I was her only child She showered me with love I never knew my father I met him only when I was a small child He left when I was three and I’ve never seen him since If I try to picture him now I cannot Yes, I got laid more often than I can remember But I do not get laid anymore I cannot even remember the last time Its’ been years, decades most likely I am content to live out my days here until my death My mother is still alive but I never see her I get my check for eight hundred dollars every month from the government Which is more than enough to cover my expenses I do not know happiness, but I am very content And every once in a while, I can catch the faintest whiff of one of those hippie chicks Who thought that I was the most beautiful boy in Liberty Hill All work copyright © by Austin Brookner
0 Comments
|
Categories
All
|