poem a day

Letting Go

outside the door leading to the East
Portland Community Center pool
a plywood boy stands g

I Am Five

This is my first memory

This Morning

surely it was you

I was not dreaming

you

in my room

in my bed

between my legs

it was your neck

your chin

your jaw line

I'm sobbing

Poem Starting with a Line from Mark Strand

open the book of deep night

to the

page where the

house settles

creaking bones

 

the smell of jasmine

draws a

translucent canopy over my

Student Union

 
Around the room, large as gymnasium,
couches lie scattered like children’s toys,
covered in student bodies, blue-gold brocade.
 

<

Emo Guy

During lunch hour, black converse one-star high-tops

hang out behind the gymnasium smoking

Newports cut with pot and teenage angst.

 

Off to See the Wizard

I am Oz

great and powerful

come with what you want, I'll

give you what you need

 

looking back, I

carry you forward

eyes in the back of your head

I'm at My Wit's End

for in brown, tufted chair

front corner of comfy coffee shop

my lover sits legs entwined

caressing mug of hot chai

 

nutmeg, cinnamon

drop through foam

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