five poems

by Wayne F. Burke

A Place in the Sun

 

all I ever wanted

but even that comes

for a price, you

must fight for it,

they will put you

in the shade otherwise,

say that you belong

in the shadows, make

you out to be a child of

darkness, tell you

that they own the proprietary

rights, bought with their blood-

stained lucre.

Between You and Me

 

My old buddy Jack

of toothsome gleam

from honeyed Connecticut

had been football coach

at Yale then lieutenant

in the Marine Corp in

Vietnam—where he went

to save lives of soldiers, he said

not to kill anyone—he prefaced

all remarks with “do not tell

anyone this.” I never knew

who or whom he thought

I would tell what to:

“just between us, okay?”

Did he work for the CIA?

I never asked. He was so

poor when I knew him, he

used toothpaste as shaving

cream, but after his father

died, he inherited a house,

no mortgage, and a big roll

of cash to pay for all the

shaving cream he needed.

Bark

 

A man calls “come

when I call” and

a small boy comes running.

I lay my book aside

turn my head and

run with him

step for step

to the big car

duck

weave

into the back seat

to avoid the back-handed

slap of

a bastard long dead

who lives-on

in the dark snarl

of a stranger

while I live-on as the boy

who must run

who cannot bark

who says “yes master

I am coming!”

Kate

 

She blew me like she meant it:

like she wanted to, not as favor

or reward, but to please because

she felt I was worth it: noisily

sucking, determined; red-

cheeked with the effort…

She was the best, but I was

too dumb back

when, to realize it.

Cops

 

checking me out as

I sit in the park, they

are going to stop and

ask me to button the

top button of my shirt,

they are going to ask

what I am writing and

why, they are going to

follow me to my place

and peek through windows

to see how often I go to

the bathroom and for how

long, they are going to

gather stool samples to

see what I have been eating,

they are going to subpoena

my library card to see what

I have been reading, they

are cops, they cannot help

themselves, they have cop

souls and act as they must.

Photo of Wayne F. Burke

BIO: Wayne F. Burke's poetry has been widely published online and in print, including in BLOOD & HONEY. He has authored ten poetry collection, most recently WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY WAYNE? Hog Press. 2025. He lives in Vermont (USA).

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five poems