Chris Jarmick


Now that I’m nearly grown up
sometimes the acid rain from years ago
burns my eyes
reminding me of how far we’ve travelled
first together
then apart
forever connected
and I won’t insist it is more bitter than sweet.
There was and remains too much good
through all of it.

I should have been taller.
I could have been someone else.
If it was nearly perfect
it would not have been real.
If it were easy
I would not have learned a thing.
I’m glad I am here today.


City’s Sacristy

If I whispered,
as we walked on the path in Seward Park
into the old growth forest
(yes, just South of the city is an old growth forest),
that: ‘you know, this place is sacred’. . .
would you stop texting on your goddamn phone?

           (published by Blakelight)

Recovery Girl

Recovery Girl
takes her first few steps
on the tight-rope
stretched over

Relapse Canyon

Loved ones
hold their breath for her
needing to help,
knowing they must not.

There’s little confidence
inside Recovery Girl.

She must trust words
from an invisible coach,
ignore how naked
how utterly alone she feels.
And she must fight
with every thread of her soul
that irresistible urge
to look down.

       (from Not Aloud – MoonPath Press 2015)