poem

Lines For Turner Cassity

Lines For Turner Cassity

Librarian with military bearing,
You’ve left us poems critics call unsparing,

A wit not merely clever but hard-bitten.
Sometimes I hear you utter, “overwritten,”

And even at this distance, there’s no choice
But hear the word in that distinctive voice,

Not circumflexing drawl, dipthonged legato,
But southern, brisk particular staccato—

Inimitable voice—for never cruel—
Impatient only of the pompous fool

Kin

Kin

Dust, No Wind

Dust, No Wind

Your mind is full of things you can’t control.
If only you could drift in dreams.  You toss.
On another continent a rose unfolds.
You stare across the ceiling, feeling lost.

A soldier lays her rifle on the ground.
Others clatter bullets in a bucket.
You curl up on your bed as if on frozen ground.
A woman ducks a slap and seems to smirk.

Something New

Something New

She Resolves to Control Her Mouth

She Resolves to Control Her Mouth

Brotherhood

Brotherhood

          Artane Boys’ School, near Dublin, 1963,
          run by The Congregation of Christian Brothers.

Weather Radio

Weather Radio

When I see “Flora”

When I see “Flora”

Xiomara's Vigil

Xiomara´s Vigil

Where will her roving husband dig tonight?
The moonlit dunes that stretch beyond their door
cradle a bounty wrested to the light.

An ancient cemetery is the site
(stray bony bits first led them to explore.)
What will her roving husband find tonight—

clay figurines, quaint pots of black-on-white?
A mummy-bundle?  Implements of war?
An eldritch bounty wrested to the light.

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