POETRY
“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
Any still figure at mid-late evening, when the long shadows make even crumbs appear arranged like furniture.
and apples, mackintosh mostly, but any kind left in The Pub
at the Assisted Living Place
Ghosts for hire, whispers in her mouth,
cysts to feel, the symmetry of a gift.
It recommended
soft porn, as gentle prodding and petting parent
to parent might calm and soothe the kid.
we drove on through
the blue seal of morning as the turbines
turned and winked out their hearts
Even as the sun warms the concrete
the long nights’ sensual cold lingers in my clothes.
Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.
In my universe, my arm carries a heart and flowers,
my back a misguided quote
the man is stayed bent over the canvas
of my sofa. the man is me the man is him
self and I bring down the whip…
We found in his suitcase T-shirts, his siddur, gifts he bought for his grandchildren…
