James Diaz Tells Of The Boy Who Threw His Words At A Train, A Negligence of Bandages, And The Warp Of Trauma

Shiver n' Shakedown

Put your ragged heart

in the red dirt

some boy threw

his words against a train

outta town

never made it

calls you sometimes

says; iowa, portland,

mexican border,

i still love you

probation officer

at the door again

late on rent again

had a using dream again

again again

torpedo heart

listen to the town go dead

at night

against the chain link fence

wrapped around

motel six

blue sky kids kicking dreams up in their veins

feel this god make or break you

down into laughter

why,

you don't ask why

anymore

you let the world have at you

take; liver, gut, limb

take what you're gonna take

and shout about all the rest

I need to sleep

dear god, I need to remember

where it is I come from

but never mind that now

I see the lights

I hear the heat

it's all over except it's not

ever

over.

I've Got You, Hold on

what it's like

and no one has stopped

My, that's quite a wound you've got

I know

I really do

to help you

all evening

it's been like this

people pretending no one is bleeding

no one human

can you lift your leg for me

does this hurt, here, try this way

lean into my hand, I've got you

fuck is wrong with these people

I'll go get bandages, hold on

I'll be back

and you tell me it's been ten years since you've been home

and what happened was...

and it still haunts you

and sometimes this feels better

out here, all alone

better that the wounds are now only accidents

and I know, I really do

what it's been like

I see you bleeding

no safe place and so completely human

you're not foreign to me -I've got you, hold on.

It

Is No Act, To Love You Here

Trauma

warp

round

the root

I

rot, you call-

I

come running

feel

the furrow

the

shakes

scan

my insides

all

rut and ribbon

say

this life

will

not escape us

will

turn into

a

porch light

in

the deep

mountains

and

when you cry

an

angel loans its wings

we

beat the earth

we

drink deeply

from

that ground

open

up- something is coming

through,

bigger

than light

higher

than dope

come

drop these chains

come

hold this wheel

steady,

scarred

and

beautiful

wishing

well

belly

whispers

break

the night

and

our hearts wide

open.

More

than

father's

return

this

time,

our

instinct for love

and

deserving-

the

retching along the highway

spilling

its own light,

and

such hands as these to catch it.

James Diaz is the author of This Someone I Call Stranger (Indolent Books, 2018) and editor (along with Elisabeth Horan & Amy Alexander) of the anthology What Keeps us Here: Songs from The Other Side of Trauma (Anti-Heroin Chic Press, 2019). In 2016 he founded the online literary arts and music journal Anti-Heroin Chic to provide a platform for often unheard voices, including those struggling with addiction, mental illness and Prison/confinement. His most recent work can be found in Moonchild Magazine, Occulum, Drunk Monkeys and Thimble Literary Magazine. He resides in upstate New York, in between balanced rocks and horse farms. He has never believed in anything as strongly as he does the power of poetry to help heal a shattered life.