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Published November 25, 2018

Two Poems by James Thurgood
(Calgary, Alberta, Canada)

My Idol
Close Call
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my idol

by James Thurgood

My green is lean, and my coin is spent;
I ain’t busted but I’m badly bent.
          - Richard Newell (aka King Biscuit Boy)

      if your idol isn’t
                                 filthy rich
chances are you’ll meet:
            here’s me at
Sneaky Pete’s
    shaking the hand that cradled the harp
that rocked the world
       - telling King Biscuit Boy himself
                how I joined a band at sixteen
     and borrowed that first album
             - how this guy kept after me -
                  but I had to hear it
                                   one last time
                           always
                                                           
                  sensing regal impatience
                        I wind up with
      how I still study those cuts -

                for Christ’s sake
       says His Majesty
            
                that was twenty-five years ago
                  and you didn’t pay for it then –
I hope you’re gonna buy
                                      my new CD



close call

by James Thurgood

there was this jacket
in a used-clothing store
- suede like I could never buy new
    and it fit

                    I had this idea
  it made me look tough
       and cool
  at the same time
- but it cost twenty bucks
 so I went to another store

then thought
what the hell
 and went back -
the jacket was gone

that was a month ago
                               and last night
       I dreamt I opened
my closet
          and that jacket
                            hung there

              which sounds pathetic
   but it’s not really
because looking at the dream jacket
      I saw grease stains
                                     blood stains
  and stains that could never
       be tough or cool -
                                     soup stains
                                ink stains
                       gob stains

              the lining was
      all ripped to shit
- one seam wide open
                             at the armpit

                        I realized
    I’d been burned

but soon woke up
                              greatly relieved
                    to find myself
           in the real world


Biography
James Thurgood was born in Nova Scotia, grew up in Windsor, Ontario,
has lived all over the country, now in Calgary, Alberta.  His poems have
appeared in various journals and in book form (Icemen/Stoneghosts,
Penumbra).
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