Thursday, September 15, 2005

out of a sad time...

comes this. give this a read, give me feedback. i want this to grow as a poem, but i'm too close to it right now. feedback would be very helpful right now. thanks.
p.s. this is the first poem i've written on a napkin in a long time...



I left it in the
Diner booth
or
Our last cup of coffee

Two eggs-scrambled-
home frieds and toast, half
eaten. The Regulars
filter in as the coffee
drip
drip
drops.

The wall mirror tells me
that I hunch. I sit
straighter.

Everyone here wishes
they were someplace else.

In a moment, you will
step out of the country
but my feet will
remain planted under
this table where I
will ask for a warm-
up and two more creamer.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

hey guys... i'm trying to gather a few pieces to submit to roosevelt's literary magazine (www.roosevelt.edu/oyezreview in case anyone else is interested in submitting things too!) this is one of the poems i wrote in prague for an assignment. any feedback for revision? need to expand? better title ideas?...

After the Iron Curtain; Flashback

His wife grows flowers, yellows
and reds, on their blue windowsill, tucks

one into his lapel as he leaves
for work, nearly retired and running

late. Boarding the metro, his freckled hand
in tweed left pocket finds no ticket. No

time. He sits, rides backwards, avoids
eye contact and clutches black

leather briefcase, compressing
the cracking fabric, wrinkling

enclosed papers. He watches
for inspectors, for secret police, tries

to hide behind a soft smile and
a red begonia.