Literary Yard

Search for meaning

‘Graying light of morning’ and other poems by JCK Hnry

By: JCK Hnry

graying light of morning

in the graying light of morning
i stand before the rise
of a day built on hope and possibility.

cold seeps through crumbling
seals between window pane
and wood. he pats the bed,
whispers, come back to me.

i leave him longing as i
stretch out toward the bedroom door,
toeing to the kitchen for coffee and cocaine,

it’s been a long three days
riding bareback through a forest
of bad intentions.

my house is ringed with gasoline
and i fumble with the matches.
we are all dying,
it’s just
i’m dying faster than you.



she is wasted out.
skinny, underweight,
twitchy, nervous,

her hidden life,
suddenly public,
became real to those
around her,
a few years back.

she’s a junkie.

part of the oxy generation,
huffing crushed pills
melted onto tin foil.

she sold everything

when we first met
when she first came around the house
i couldn’t look at her
18 and beautiful,
smart and driven

but the person that mattered most
to her
and she died that day
as well

nothing more than a ghost
she doesn’t exist
in reality
and i can’t find her
even when i can
finally look her
in the eye


i am fine

they ask me if
i am okay
they ask me if
i will be alright
they ask me if
i need any help
or someone to call
or send me a text
any time is fine.

i smile through
broken teeth,
i am fine,
everything is fine,
the whole world is fine.

just look outside.

just look at
the palm trees burning
or the streets of Portland bleeding
or the halls of democracy crying.

i never thought my alarm
clock would announce
a dystopian nightmare,
but this morning it did,
and here we are.

and i am fine.


garden of insanity

a sky tinged in brown smoke
begins to burn as a damning sun
stretches across a far horizon.

mother earth has thrown in the towel,
the ramparts of hell stretch across
terraces of dry meadows and old growth pine trees,
dead and dying, stricken with invasive species,
now burning. it’s all burning. 300-foot flames lick
up mountains. centuries old apple orchards
charred black. fires start at every turn,
lightning strikes, fireworks
at a gender reveal party.

ash covers my car like an early nuclear winter.
i drive to the local 7Eleven, meet a guy, make
a deal, buy two donuts and a cup of coffee.

i am over the cliff and falling, but i don’t mind,
at least it’s a little cooler down here
in my garden of insanity.

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