Three Poems by Patrick Riedy

the ability to breathe easy [23]

keep the tone

the fucking tone                         don’t lose the tone

found it in two thousand and three
lost it for a little in between

i seem scarred because i am

            things are sometimes what they seem

don’t sound old
sound new            sound cool

you can’t not sound like you

can you

when i look in me

i know

i feel like i shouldn’t be


the ability to breathe easy [40]

a life so catholic it was sin

faddie regretted everything towards the end

that house                        built with coal

    you can still see it on rt. 20

the whole town blew up

               the railroad went to shit

nothing but filth exists

faddie lived by the rail

                                   died by the sin


Deviled Eggs (and thoughts of you)

somewhere between the kitchen beige and green
he met the woman he thought he loved
in the time it took to boil one dozen eggs
he knew

the air that fills the space of his lungs
lingered with the scent of deodorant
smiles were exchanged and teeth came out to play
days accumulated

he lost count

found it funny how months rolled over into years
how time became less important –
more of a tool to measure

he heard it in the distance
when he cared enough to notice
he heard it rumbling
it was a warning

he heard it in the distance
if he cared enough to notice

somewhere between the new kitchen orange and blue
he no longer experienced the thrill of something novel
in the time it took to boil one dozen eggs
he prepared the table

Profile: Patrick Riedy

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