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poems:
Jack
Freak of the Alchemist
New Orleans
Do You
Bucket of Questions


Book of Voices
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Do You

It is difficult to imagine life beyond the grave
When your heart is a poor manís memorial
Bearing the names of over fifty men
You useta slap hands with

Is everyday beyond the age of 25
An unearned bonus
Are ya in awe of the child
you thought youíd never live to have
do ya wish for your kid
to be as lucky as you

Are ya scared
So hurt
Ya laugh when ya should be outraged

Do ya daydream about a piece of metal
penetrating your scald
does the phone ringing in the middle of the night
momentarily stop the world

does your Iím going to live
by my own means mentality
taunt your fatalistic prophecy

when they piss you off
would ya curse a muthafucker
callíem an asshole to his face
instead of his back
piss on their rotten pecan decency
showing up like firm handshakes
with soft intentions

do ya wish that the killing would stop
but can think of no good reason
for some people to live

do ya throw fist over conflicts
that a mature tenth grader could solve with words
do they think you were raised in a cave

if ya could
would ya never go to sleep
while the rest of the world is being cool
are ya bouncing off the ceilings

do little kids quietly suspect
that you are a little kid
do ya feel like a set of brass knuckles
bagged with a jelly donut

are ya anxious
do ya try and remember
how every picture is placed on every wall
do ya savor the taste of every bowl of pasta
are ya always the last one to leave the party

do ya like to do it slow with your women
when youíve been drinking all night
do ya drink too much

does music scented
beer slanted nights
temporarily pull the curtains
on the memorial inside your chest

do ya wish that your heart
was just a heart.

Chuck Perkins