Ponderable polemics, poetic

WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker

Life

  • Patching things together

    Growing up on a small farm, rural Minnesota space was scarce, times were lean and the land was life ma and pa granted my brother, sister and I a small plot every spring in which to plant and nurture pumpkins; sibling sharecroppers, we repaid mom by growing enough extra pumpkins for her to fulfill familial Read more

  • Shackled

    He sits in a rural Midwestern jail cell, his thoughts known only to God maybe himself. Just maybe. Two people are dead. Multiple lives altered irreparably cold, legalese narrative intones burglary gone more than bad stolen shotgun, car, arson. Death. Warrant, charges read ‘evil’ with no backstory just the facts, ma’am, just the facts… I Read more

  • Wood-post modernist

    thrills are to be had secrets need revealing wonders beg unraveling truths urge to be told revelations dark and light constrained in the pristine symmetry of new, freshly sharpened shiny-yellow pencil just above the perfectly honed greyish tip peach-fuzz wisps of wood cling gently, smell of pine tickle fingers excitedly anticipation cylindrically contained wisdom waits Read more

  • Rider less

    What goes around comes around life more Tilt-A-Whirl than Merry-go-Round Symmetry, overrated repetition needs expected spontaneity no matter how it goes down up…? Nobody waits in line just anticipating the thrill of getting strapped in and staying grounded save the poetically unenlightened dreamer on the rumbling quarter-a-ride, in-front-of-the grocery-store horse – Mark Lucker Read more

  • Driven

    Waiting for an oil change customer area big-screen TV Rachael Ray cooks pasta something a grandfather across from me texts the coffee is respectable volume on the TV isn’t but Rachael is Rachael it doesn’t matter she cooks rhythmically zzt! zzt! zzt! the unmistakable garage sound of tightened lug nuts al dente oppressive smell of Read more

  • Here on scholarship

    “There is no honor amongst thieves even less with trailer-park debutantes” Early life lesson from a bartender who worked his bottle opener like a scrapyard crane operator dumping rusty Chevys spun a corkscrew as a master drill press operator teaching an apprentice But that was years ago, when the price of a drink was considered Read more

  • 33 (For Johnny)*

    Twenty-one years was not nearly enough; we had just embarked when you left. Thirty-three years is not nearly enough to erase what is indelibly sketched not a pencil caricature, a dimly recollected photographic snapshot or grainy home movie just you, at nineteen, before illness rudely smudged and dog-eared the picture you are smiling, damn it Read more

  • Adieu redux

    Final good-byes rarely are I have buried many a soul precious to me solemnly, sorrowfully humorously some with great relief many a complete surprise I have uttered public words of farewell, regret, remembrance tossed flowers, clods of earth, remorse and thank-yous atop bronze cocoons said farewell never meaning or believing it; til-we-meet-agains with more doubt Read more

  • Smörgåsbord

    There are many different kinds of love puppy brotherly unrequited passionate secret eternal young first true having oft indulged in at least a smattering of each morsel mixing entrées salads desserts on the same plate I am woefully unqualified to distinguish tasty from savory overcooked from underdone yucky from delectable still I happily grab a Read more

  • Snapshot

    The picture was taken from too far away the two of us sit on the apartment steps the manicured shrubs on either side dominate we are framed, she and I, by wrought-iron railings Still, it is the only picture of us that I have she wears sunglasses and her acorn-hued hair cascades over her right Read more