Turkey

the turkeys cluck in the grand room
pecking order of pride and prejudice
gobbled like deficient deficit dollars
into fat gullets of their fatter wallets
it's like pinning the tail on the jackass
I mean "donkey", but there are many
good aim in not required at this party
fluffing feathers and cockeyed cooing
showing how big and colorful we are
and the biggest bird get picked first
in this life's little game of dodgeball
smacked in the balls and de-feathered
a beak broken and crushed, silenced
skinned of life, plucked into doom
throats that talked, slipped at dawn
threats that walked, ripped from ones
seated, yet standing inside, unified
scream half truths, blurts "you lie"!

– Jason Kichline

Mingle

load up ice cream on the old, red pitch roof
toppled by the weight of added snow and ice
so we'll know then we have finally broken through
and chasing forever the naughty from the nice
save the manners for the dinner table my dear
talk up to me dirty like inhaled, dusty coal gifts
walking on crooked, potholed, ice packed sidewalks
talking to strangers, the most probable of weirdos
the old weathered man in worn old leather clothes
walking sin as a pet dog, a horse out to pasture
wrinkled, u-shaped back, as broken as my will fractured
so I slip up, look back, and behold a geriatric ass
and face down I go into the yellow brown snow
embarrassing, brush it off and stand up to the tavern
whiten thick stone, carved depths thick as caverns
swing the thick oak back to hear big band horns
ringing the thick smoke hung as burnt wick incense
cigars and scotch warm the souls of us beef eaters
and a time back when when "the game" was of cards
waged and gambled, life's moments as scattered shards
today I died and went into the town
where magical memories mingle around

– Jason Kichline

Connection

connections cross the space and distance
electric bits transform, transmit our essence
of who we are, our voice, our intentions and perhaps
a piece of who we are beneath this covering
though the hours shift, the same time elapsed
share we the same soul as a family growing
one tribe, one tongue, one common ancestry
oceans wide, deep and miles cry in silence
longing to hug you again, to share sustenance
to show and yours love without the restriction
formed between us as a digital spiritual connection

– Jason Kichline

Spot

a speck, a grain, no more, no less
to me, an inconsequential stain
on an imaginary wedding dress
and yet this speck, I must confess
is small compared against the rest
but the wearer of the glowing grain
sees only growing fear and pain
coming from the mindless speck
which so easily destroys and wrecks
an otherwise perfect cleaned and pressed
white lace and sequenced wedding dress

how do I wash the blemish clean?
or show her that the red will fade?
for what truly is, is not what's seen
but that matters not for those dismayed
by a simple dot that has betrayed
for we slide within the in-between
slowly exiting from scene to scene
so while she may have seen the dot
others don't or at least may not
unless of course she makes a scene
calling attention to that stain unseen

will she ever forgive this tiny blot
which follows her both night and day
and realize that this may be her lot
a history that has made it's way
through trials that she ought allay
not overcome though over-thought
but by forgetting that which time forgot
confessing her waiting call to bless
her life, a beautiful and wondrous mess
that this color adds to her destined plot
and is not really such an ugly spot

– Jason Kichline

Lit

she burns into the night
licked by the tongues of desire
lapped by the flames from within
a solitary wick sick with loneliness
staggering in the heat of passion
so hot, so moist, so wild
wet wax dripping down
smooth alabaster legs
glistening and dancing
romancing romance itself
as dim light tugs at passion
like desperate fingers at buttons
you ignite surroundings
illumined by your touch
burning and tingling deep
until desire is too much
and then you are gone
before I can play with fire
until all that remains is the
smoldering scent of you

– Jason Kichline

Deli

goodbye mom, hello dad
looks like amnesia is what I had
recalling trauma my life's forgot
heaven waits in the waiting spot
number's been taken, so watch the sign
bright digits hung for another time
you are the deli meat
yes, slimy, stinky grime
each unique like olive loaf
and the counter cooler
sustains you and I both
sliced just the way you like
weighed out on waxed paper
cold slabs cut, tucked, wrapped
lifeless shades of pink thin sheets
robed in white and masking tape
sticker affixed and off you go
a measured stack of life tapped
slice by slice as eternity eats
a cart full of worthy treats
tasty sandwiches for the King
assembled of Grade A deli meats

– Jason Kichline

Homeless

empty words and filled todo lists
too crowded here for another entrance
stand aside and take a number
go home and beat your fists
keep it private, pumped into air
because no one wants to bother
you stole the china out of the stars
scattered broken shards of properness
high on her horse, too high to jump off
pride, it seems is a dangerous hike
the morning coolness satires
comics come to steal the pen
arrived on the wings of fools
her two feet shimmy and sway
engines rev in a shoddy getaway
so grab your bag of stolen bases
and run like hell back to homeless
we are all stuck in this mess too
so for your information
it's not just you

– Jason Kichline