Grant Mason
Smiling and Jaundice
not often but sometimes
I plug my lamp into the wall
when the cigarette glow is not enough
when the moon is not enough
when my thoughts are not enough
when the fire in my guts is not enough to kill the worms or detect the buried landmines on
the road we must all walk,
when the fire in my guts won't eat the pages of poems and the memories of my past
women assemble like an army
and I shudder in silence.
I plug my lamp into the wall
and I smile a weak smile
and let it all soak in for a moment,
hoping that when I turn yellow
it's from the brief moments of light in my life
and not from alcohol
poisoning.
Bio
Grant Mason is a construction worker from South Dakota, though he just moved to Denver where he pretends to be a handyman and an emperor. He gawks in museums. He is grateful he has not yet been sold into sexual slavery, and drinks fantastic quantities of beer and tea. He has been published in Nefarious Ballerina, Admit2, Chopper, Poetry Super Highway, and the Rapid City Journal.