‘Three Poems’ by Michael Gebelein


The ghost at 2325

Kelly says there’s a ghost hanging around me and that he feeds off of depression and bad
I’ve got news for you, sister, I’ve been feeding that motherfucker a five-course meal,
complete with three bottles of wine and something sweet and dainty for dessert.
Maybe that’s the reason there’s a hole in this door
and the cat won’t stop pissing in the corner
the kids fight
we fight
the dog is getting nervous
maybe it’s my ghost who is making the joke, causing all this chaos
it must look pretty funny from his side of the divide
but here and now it’s pretty fucking dark.

Dialogue from a parking lot in downtown Asheville

She was moving her hands and saying ‘no, no, I’ve stopped talking to her’
and he was shaking his head like he didn’t believe her
I used to be one-half of that conversation, one side or the other, depending on
the day,
but no longer.
I threw down my cigarette, ground it out with the tip of my boot and walked back
into my office.
A blank screen was there waiting for me and I sang a slow, sad song for each of

Wilson Creek blues

A fever dream he once had
That showed him the future and the past and the ubiquity of everything
Came back on a dusty gravel road that ran beside the river where two men
drowned the week before
Clutching and the rocks and the rushes but not finding anything worth holding
The game warden was waiting and checked the papers
And everything was in order, for once, except for the joint he hid in his vest
Alone out there in the wilderness with old men and young men each seeking the
perfect spot
But he knew something they didn’t

Michael Gebelein is a writer and editor who lives in the foothills of the North Carolina mountains. His poetry and fiction have appeared in The Philosophical Idiot and his poetry has appeared in the Tulane Review, Deep South Magazine, Aries, Out of Our, and several other publications.

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