This commuting to work
private motor vehicles
to humanize is to attune persons
greater sympathetic contact
other persons & the living environment.
lation, insulated, self-aggrandizement
man on foot has more of the universe
on with him than all these acclimatized
IS WHAT YOU DID
swayed backwards in a chair
laid down your clawish hand
put words away in a drawer.
You held up an electric torch
to someone’s face
to see what was there.
As long as things you see
don’t go pass you in a blur,
you’re okay. Everything
pans out. One line
brings up another.
tapping in the dark
DIGGING AT THE ORE OF LUST
for Anne Carson
Time goes whirling
through landscapes bent
on its agenda, endlessly making
an end of things
a passing shadow we follow like a needle
stitching together moments
of a blank nostalgia
a too soon afternoon of thunder
a brain chemistry of naked
injury & chronic despair.
Seduced into thinking we’re immortal,
suddenly the affair is over.
I love her as I love the unknown
pure & secret, without fault
the way our mothers used to wrestle
over the fence. I love her the way
cabbages love kings on a sunny morn.
I love her as the beginning & end
of me, so troubled & alone—
I love her as down upon the ocean
& time across seas. But what
of that, if we no more connect
than fast upon heat
or blue among gulls’ reckless passion?
The author is a former university writing instructor who has published around 100 poems over the past five years. He is currently studying mathematics in Buffalo, NY, his native city. He enjoys studying French and composing songs for the guitar. You can find some of his music at: http://www.youtube.com/user/pjgrieco and can contact him there as well