there is a time
for us, & a place
for that – the poem.
the lady & the poem
that separation is
today, we look one
at the other, both
aware that in
the final love
there is no allowance
for tomorrow
———–
The Hope
softly, woman
softly,
your voice
my hand,
Our collaboration
of detail –
the way it is.
Quiet & softly
on the ledge
of night.
———–
Face To Face
In the cellar
I come
face to face
with a rat, brown
cornered
like myself…
if I move he moves,
and all I want is my stash
& to get
back upstairs
to my ol lady.
Just which one
of us
knows
the rules
of survival & need
best?
———–
The Relief
Living with the poem
is very, very difficult.
It can’t cook, make a bed
or yield bread…
it does nothing for me.
But wait: my immense lies
are stabilized, & to be
relieved of that self
is accomplishment
outside of poetry.
Categories: Poetry, The Venice Beat Poets