Alone Time / Torn Apart / Welsh Cock

John Sexton

Torn Apart

Alone Time 

Thoughts drip,

forming rivers

in my mind.

Like windowpane



Demons demand

my time.

Lurking, waiting

to strike without



The past

has passed

but has not




The future

has them too.

They loom

dark as plague.



Drip, drip,

they seep

into my mind

and start



Baby shoe on the stair.

Memories tear

strips of flesh

from my mind.


School book on the floor.

No use anymore.

Should I send them -

but where?


For such tough mettle

like Hansel and Grettle

I pick among the clues

but am clueless.


The silence is obscene.

Is this a kidnap scene

or a land version

of the Marie Celeste?


Like a refugee,

your decision to flee

and disappear

into thin air


floored me.

Welsh Cock

Remember when you wrote

your initials

on my cock?


And when it was erect

you wrote

the name of the village

you came from

in Wales.

John Sexton

Michael Brockley
A Motherless Day on West Seventh Street in 1969

Mark Blickley
Gravity Grateful