28 Years Since My Last Confession
Selected Poems
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I Learn Lessons The day itches like dead skin Some fungus crawling around I would prefer higher forms of life But I’m practicing acceptance Crawl Eat fear I guess at what this means I think of this often Digestion At a carnival once A leather woman with a rat tease Had a tattoo Sworn to Fun, Loyal to None I can relate TLA That stands for True Love Always It was carved over and over On every bathroom door of my high school So much love then! Love Darts My alcoholic brother Was a master of darts Bar darts in particular Even while his voice would slur And his six-foot five body would sway (like a tall building during heavy winds) He could still get that good eye going Take what remained of his concentration and focus Pour it into a pint glass And . . . Game On! Three in a Bed Two Fat Ladies Diddle for the Middle Right Church, Wrong Pew The words and phrases Tumbling out cool and clean Nary a mumble All clear In the corner pocket How do I know this? A half-hour before I’d get that boozed-up call Begging for a ride home He’d walked to the bar hours earlier Only two sheets to the wind then Could you do me a HUGE favor? The word “huge” dragged out Like he’d been practicing on it all day I’d enter whatever bar he graced that night Where he’d commence with the pleading Two more minutes Two more minutes Just two more minutes, please The game at a critical juncture So I’d sit down in the chair And wait And wait Wait Finally I’d head to the door Yell back to him You’re the one who called me He’d hear me then Pour his last beer into a to-go cup That he’d always carry with him Like a talisman or a rabbit’s foot or any good-luck charm Him weaving and smiling We’d make our way to the car I owe you one he’d say You owe me about fifteen I’d counter Ha! he would bellow Excited, eyes tearing No, no, I really owe you one Then he’d turn his face Shift his body toward the passenger door Be asleep before I could tell him This is really the last time Really really Really the last time For my brother, Bill Powers, who died sober at age 49 Therapy When my therapist left the room I took a look at the notes that she wrote There was nothing on the page for our session Except the phrase scribbled too large in black ink In handwriting that could only be described as disappointing “No fresh insights”
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About the Book
It took so long to bring this book to print. I don't quite know why. I think maybe a few people had to die first. What I know now is that for a long time I stopped myself from getting my poetry out into the big, blue world because I followed the internal rule that I learned in my family, which was "this doesn't go outside the family." Since most of my writing was about my family this presented a conundrum. It took many years to break this rule and I still fight it almost every time I sit down to write. The book's grand themes: Death, Loss, Divorce, Bad Relationships, Toxic Family Issues, Addiction & My Catholic Upbringing. And, before you say "Wow, what a bummer," you need to know that I write with great humor and grace. That's what they say about me anyway. I like to think my work tragic and comic in the Irish tradition. Or, as my good friend, W.B. Yeats wrote, "Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy." Just change "he" to "she" and that should explain a great deal of my world view. My work has been compared to Sharon Olds, Hal Sirowitz and David Sedaris. I'm not making that up. It really has been compared to those writers. Enough! Read a few of my poems and judge for yourself.
About the Author
Catherine born on an air force base in Hempstead, Long Island, NY and grew up in Northampton, MA (home of Calvin Coolidge, Smith College, and where Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf was filmed). Her family later moved to Dearborn Heights, MI. Catherine’s first attempt at poetry in high school garnered an award from Scholastic magazine and the Detroit Free Press. She has published several poems and short stories in local and regional journals and magazines and won several literary awards. Catherine holds two Masters’ degrees, so you know that definitely says something! Catherine has worked as a psychotherapist, consultant/trainer, teacher, and college administrator. Her non-professional life has included stints as a pizza delivery girl, valet parker, waitress, and hotel maid (for two days at the Dearborn Travel Lodge until it was announced her shift would begin at 5 a.m.--whereupon she quickly quit in protest.) 28 Years Since My Last Confession is her first published book of poetry.