Press Conference

Press Conference

Alone, twisting in the wind
Silent, nothing left to say

I do not know this place

I cannot hear the music

Frustrated, I search for a chord

No longer playable.

Rejoicing, sounds of it drift this way

Celebration, at my downfall evidently.

I helped bring this about

I stood shoulder to shoulder

Gloating, they rob me of something

I freely gave them.

Impending, it hangs dark in the air.

Threatening, punishment for something I did not do.

I think my father's thoughts

"People are no damned……"

I push them away the thoughts

Which are not mine but his, but though

Depressing, I know they're sometimes true.

by Tom King (c) 2009

Quiet Town

By Tom King

It’s just a quiet town, my town;

               One church and a flock of schools,

And the three-nights-a-week softball tournament,

               When the local warriors trot out their stuff

                              …on a summer’s evening.

Last week the college had a film – Disney flick;

               Dalmatians or Lippizaners or such as that.

Three reels and a break for popcorn in the middle

               And the young men of good report walk their ladies home talking

                              …in whispers intently.

Tonight the neighbor kid beat up a cop – our cop!

               Something about a license plate,

And Mrs. Peavy, who is 60, carries a stick on her early morning walk

               To fend off the ragged refugees our town once welcomed

                              …with open arms.

Next week when all the gossip runs its troubled course,

               And all the misfits we’ve taken in are suitably castigated and arrayed

Before us all for our collective misjudgment,

               It will wound the gentler hearts, the ones who’ve left their doors unlocked

                              …for so many years.

It is they, who will feel the loss most keenly.

© 1986, Keene, TX