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These poems had to be cut from different sections due to lack of space.

  Drowning in Air…


is slower


there’s time 

to read the mail

watch TV

steam vegetables

to grasp at love

till air

closes above—


I rise more than three times

to gulp the purer element

you breathe

to me, mere inspiration


I think,

“There must be

something

I can do.”

as my life


flashes before my eyes

  

Waste

each
in his own way
wastes his life
 

leaving only
the children
whom we hope
will not waste theirs

The Man...

stands in the foyer

of the Museum of Modern Art

before a wall

swirling with calligraphy


he thinks

he sees a woman strolling

among the Picassos


he sees a café

with sandwiches


shuffling of feet

subdued chatter of voices


he wears corduroy pants

and a green sweater

the woman wears an orange sweater

mauve skirt


he thinks of things to say

nothing seems appropriate


she moves off through an archway

to another room


he wonders about Picasso


a tune runs through his head


he debates taking the subway

back to East 10th Street

or walking


he thinks about the café

sees another woman

  

Will I Remember… 


tacking into waves
wind tensing the sail 

skiing a mountain
diving tropic seas 

Sunday morning cafés
reading the Times 

wearing jeans and joggers
playing Bach 

that I had friends
parents
children 

that I had a name?

 

TRIPTYCH

 


I. Giving


take your clothes off

 

take your skin off

 

lay your blood at her feet

a red velvet cloak

 

bridge with your bones

the chasm of her loss

 

still not enough


II. From the Fire

 

who only leaves

can only return

 

I would return

for you

 

only

I'm still here


III. Valentine's Day

 

I don't need to know

why she left me

or why

I will return to an empty apartment

stop a drafty window

with a torn scarf

 

or why my cells unglue

dissolve their chains

 

but what is a white plastic straw doing

on that gray-flecked square

of this linoleum floor?