C.L.LLOYD

the poetry.

realist poetry

  • DOWN AT THE FOOD BANK

    the lines are longand stretch downthe street. when you getinside, there’sa waiting roomwith chairs andfree books. all the booksare the self-helptype. titles like‘the power ofpositive thinking.’ boy, do we thinkpositively,as the ladiesfill our cart. two bags ofmacaroni,one box ofpowered mashpotatoes,three cans ofbeans. imagine thefeast! we makemagic out ofnon-perishables. walking back homethrough the slush,two bags undereach… Read more

  • WE’VE BEEN HERE BEFORE

    the bills are piling up again, but that’s okay, we’ve been herebefore. old veterans of poverty,the highs when it’s good andthe fridge is half full, and the lightshave stayed on for weeks.and the lows, the lows,when the collection notices come,and the cupboards are bare,and you’ve got to decide betweenthe heat or the electric bill. it’s… Read more

  • A PLACE LIKE THAT

    some nights, wedrive uptowninto the privatecul-de-sacsand stare at the big houses.their windowsbright with theorange glowof finer things we trace ourfingertips overthe rooftopsuntil the tilesdissolve intothe midnightblue. and dream the way dreamersdo with anapartmentfit for two. i turn to youand say,“but whatwould we dowith a placelike that?”“we’d neverkeep up onthe cleaning,”you reply. we laugh, driving offlooking… Read more

  • Saloon Sinners

    These days, these long summer days, that swoon to offer memories in fistfuls.  Each moment, a bright and blissful jewel of ecstasy, etched effortlessly, into the time-keepers kaleidoscope stone.  Luscious and lustful, the sun gives a heady smile, grinning at the first sight of June.Tripping blonde rays over green pools of fresh cut grass – and us, laughing, while small birds gift their morning secrets. It is here,… Read more

  • Anemone Coronaria (a poem for gaza)

    Gaza’s dark earth drinks  the blood of it’s own as dog-toothed bombs  bark across an amber sky.  Mother’s bring their rage  to burst through the rubble –  pulling pieces from doom-colored dust,  blossoming green hints of hope against burning bricks of destruction.  Each mouth a sepal.  Each eye a petal.  Each limb a stem.  Every… Read more

  • Church Cleaner

    I quit on a Thursday.Left my key on the old woman’s desk.She used to email me saying, “There’s a stone on the RUG.”And test me, leaving dimes in strange places.  It wasn’t her fault.Everyone grasps at power.Hers came out in small ways.Like emails and dimes.  After two weeks, I went back.“We’re glad to see you!”… Read more

  • No God Wants This

    What is there to say? Chaos is nature’s true name. Man has forgotten the sun and  Taken for granted the golden rays.  People murder each other in the name of gods.  Clinging to their rosary beads and books of myth.  Afraid to whisper the truth, no god wants this. Read more

  • Selling Shoes.

    I had just done 30 days in the madhouse and rented a room for $500 at a halfway house. the room next to mine always smelled like piss. I tried to scrub the door down and the floor in front of the door. it didn’t do any good. one day, there was a sign in… Read more

  • BECAUSE -!

    “Why!” cries the hero, looking down upon the crowd.All the restless souls standing gather round.“This!” he speaks so surely,Never rushed or in a hurry –“Is the purpose of existence!”Ever more, he is insistent,On sharing the good news of Reason,Sure to spark the flames of treason.As the people nod, agreeing,In their insufferable lust for meaning,Lifting up… Read more