We know some are gold souls
in tarnished guise, in an armor of rust
& no lust to remember for those knights
of nights mortal as the most tender
& tired thing opening my eyes
to what cloaks held
the bars, drugs, hunger,
diamond-shining with a promise,
need-deep, to be there
through the dawn only
& not lying should, afterward,
soldiers to the battle,
they not return ever
Convicts & Kingpins
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About the Author
Stephen Mead is a retired Civil Servant, having worked two decades for three state agencies. Before that his more personally fulfilling career was fifteen years in healthcare. Throughout all these jobs he was able to find time for writing poetry/essays, and creating art. Occasionally he even got paid for this work. Currently he is resident artist/curator for The Chroma Museum, artistic renderings of LGBTQI historical figures, organizations and allies predominantly before Stonewall.
