Christopher Bailey is an English major at Ohio University-Southern with aspirations to become a college professor. He is currently working on two poetry books titled Sex in the Dark and Death is for Lovers. He will be joining the Peace Corps following his undergraduate career. In his leisure time you can find him with a nice cigar, a glass of wine, and around his friends. He is inspired by contemporary poets such as Neil Hilborn, Rudy Francisco, and Phil Kaye.

Bleeds its soul from the smoke

Of the Appalachian valleys

Deep in the hills and mountains

Where the townsfolk sing hymns

And recite generational tales

All the way to the inner city haste

Of cynical suburbia and the only

Colors that matter to the hustling

Dream-walkers are scarlet and grey.

Hopes rest in lakes which flow

Into the river streams lined

By riverbeds where dreams soak

Into the muddy pillows where heads

Of the homeless reside along

Floodwalls with murals painted

By labored hands.

Streets lined with needles

That escaped the haystacks

And found their new hideaways

In the intravenous passages

Of innocent mothers and fathers

That find perfect rest in SUV’s

Along highways with children

Having to become adults too soon,

Having to become what they are

And not what they want to be.

There’s a beauty in the tragedy

That fills the air with anti-gravity

Tears as the perfumes and colognes

Disguise the scent of sadness

Into a happiness that only a sherbert

Color sky can create.

The Bible belt is strapped too tight

And the waists of the well-fed

Evangelists are still healthier

Than the hungry drunkard

That drinks their life in sips

And moments of profound despair.

A beautiful disaster.

A beautiful disaster.