seth louis cason

Musings, Ramblings, Complaints, Insights, Acceptance, Avoidance, and How I Am Wrong About Everything. Always.

All the Boys Hated Him

(I wondered what happened to this poem. I found it hiding out in my music file, plotting its escape with the help of Veruca Salt.) He stumbled out of thin climate-controlled air,a belated debut in the doorway of sophomore English, day 8of the school year. Everybody stared, he was impossibleto read. His name was strong, unlike mine. His name was the stomp of a winter boot,a blunt punchthrough my stupid lovesick chest;his name reverberated first through my brain,then behind my lips, ravaging the remains of my good sense.I wanted to trace that name with my fingeracross his chest; I wanted to hear my nameescape from behind his … Continue reading All the Boys Hated Him


Another close shave with annihilation.I crept back into the closet,closed it, returned to earth. The lies I spunto survive—I’m still laughingat the simple priest who absolved my sinsthrough the slats of his own safety cave.Creation grovels out of agony,never love. It chokes over, then unleashesyour name in kaleidoscopic spasms.And it was the shapeless women who greetedme against the mud-scented wind, botheringthe March garden, the monument, the parking lotbeside the cypresses . I followed them inside,no memory of my façade, my slick pretending.When the pieta commenced the constellationscracked like glass and staggered apart. I heardbloodthirst in the bellow of a coyote and,because … Continue reading Pieta

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