• Keith Roach
    Poet & host of No Boarders 24/7 Poetry Radio
    To find out more about Keith, click here:


    where I lived brittle renewed swamps
    empty from old forests blue
    urban utopia civil and modern divided
    shades of manumission work 
    linesbrick and concrete gridwork
    once primeval previous--
    home to creeping things all sacred 
    to gods and idol nods 
    where I lived at was always
    once noble savage's rent controlled migrations---
    life balked at salvations
    laid down at the crossroads
    but all the deals were done 
    and satan     on hiatus or vacationing 
    suggested before all closings---
    "blessed indeed are the meek
    for they dare not confound"---
    where I live 
    resurrection costs dearly
    whether urban or mythical
    a perilous roll call of sainted cornerstones
    stupid irony 
    a renewal of domain removals
    one meek after the other 
    warred slaves and immigrants
    mottled colors bent and twisted into 
    council's torts and assemblys
    swarming flocks cut into 
    haves and have nots
    pressure elected sudden promises
    their lords 
    crucified trees
    and the hosts of industry---
    where I live
    almost citizenry countenance the abyss
    then round the sphere
    where I live tho
    land is flat and dollar declared--
    lost fares reside among
    ghetto haunting mansions---
    and in whose house where
    these many?


    in a quiet little room
    full of keepsakes is
    a bottle of ricewine
    it is saved for some certain guests
    who will laugh at 
    the common foibles
    as quickly as they will forget 
    sitting around a kitchen table 
    that wobbles just enough to keep
    elbows off and manners intact
    stories and quick sayings 
    batted back and forth even
    as the wine and winemaker are praised
    the sweetness loosens the laughter
    and beckons another for the road
    life is of the wondrous and the silly
    haunting desire and memory
    we sit at this table
    and the world spins a bit faster 
    changing skies as often as 
    the stories change to engage
    non participants 
    who are still amazed at this wine
    that is homemade 
    and saved for the friends
    who want the adventure 
    as well as the remembering
    calling the ghosts of other acquaintances
    who would have enjoyed the wine
    and the tale of its becoming
    and how it was that this 
    sweet drink
    happened just for this