Two Poems by
Salvatore Difalco
My Dead Father Stands Among The People
I plan to continue despite the presence
of ghosts. I don’t believe in them,
I believe in the power of words
to create them from scratch and
parade them around paper fairgrounds.
Watch your valuables as you sail
down the metaphoric chute. Thieves
wait around its bends with blackjacks
and bear spray. Never say you
weren’t warned. But the message tracks
according to the latest data
and we have no reason to fear death
at least not today when harm
will only come to those who lack it.
Let Me Hold Your Head
Your gaze itself announces the starting lineup
for tonight’s east coast tilt. Everyone
believes the time is ripe for victory,
even the inevitable losers. Ties no longer
count in this pipeline to the last few seconds.
The fan crush postgame alarms
the uniformed beefeaters blushing
as they wield batons and push back the crowd.
And it all unfolds like a high concept flick
that never got off the ground. A lack
of scruples skates thin ice in the field rink.
Someone’s dad started the tradition.
We drank weak coffee with powdered
creamer that left an aftertaste reminiscent
of anesthesia. No one complained
though most of us lacked mouths.
The artist had forgotten to draw them in
last time he came round for revisions.
Sicilian Canadian poet and author Salvatore Difalco currently lives in Toronto, Canada. Recent work appears in RHINO Poetry, Blaze Vox, and Third Wednesday.