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


I can do.”

as my life

flashes before my eyes



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

that I had a name?




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



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?