The Saltwater in My Blood

bullrushes through my native heart,
a white Atlantic sting
I carry down Beacon Street
but please
I am no beacon of light.

Toss out your mother’s cliche
with the fish guts,
the cellular imprint of cannibals

born along the seaboard coast
where my French-born grandmother
baked dutch babies

and Pa loosened
his belt once Sam tied off
from the driveway, scraping
that five iron with one deep swing.

I for one splash the ocean
into the basement of my eyeballs
after some yankee’s
spitbucket blood
stained my knuckles.

A black moon waxes my vision
as I stand proud on a dead
Southie beach in December.


Keith Mark Gaboury earned a M.F.A. in creative writing from Emerson College. His poems have appeared in such publications as Eclectica Magazine, Five 2 One Magazine, and New Millennium Writings. After spending his days as a preschool teacher, Keith spends his nights writing poetry in San Francisco, California.

Steve Warren is a veteran, recovering addict and peer specialist who became a self taught Naturalpathic self healer. He changed his diet, started dancing, took to writing and performing poetry, and hasn’t stopped healing since.