We understand that poetry is one of the many art forms that can love, heal, and make one feel less alone. In the spirit of our Waiting Room Reader series, we would like to offer poems and excerpts from our latest books on a regular basis throughout the coronavirus outbreak. It is our hope that these selections will offer comfort and companionship through this season of isolation and quarantine.
Kiss, in which the two, larger than-lifesize, naked bodies. Neither a kiss to be bragged about afterward. Allen Ginsberg. It happened at a stand-up party where everyone. My wife was downstairs. I had just. Intending to kiss her once on each cheek,. I missed. I held the kiss two seconds. Shocked, he stepped back. His wife, Katie, laughed. But Sharon and he. English Leather after-shave splash, with passion. Morning, and the body unfolds Before the tulips in the garden open As the sun edges over the mountain Where the hawk glides, A kite without string.
Now I awaken to light Yawning through the window, To sleeves of the sun Stretching out to us, To the calls of cardinals With crests of flame And mourning doves wooing The winter from my bones. I turn from the blur of years To nuzzle into your sleeping valleys Before you move from loveliness To rituals as the day arrives Without mistakes or lies, Without the frayed ends Of old dreams or the loose ends Of thoughts waiting to be tied. There are no beginnings or endings But only the love which Continues because it does, Because it falls with The last snow of winter And rises with the tulips That push into light.
On other days at 5 am the light, as they say, is a beacon: casts its bluish haze over the ground, as they say, sweeping , but which looks to me like an ultrasound, the light in its center a fetus.
With each refresh day advances. The sky is dark, the sky is light. There is a hierarchy in the arts: decorative art at the bottom, and the human form at the top. Because we are men. First day of school outfits, hems, elbow and knee patches she conjured. I need some notions. How she could darn. She said a woman could never have enough β. The house in Donnybrook Street was a hive of draughts, cold infesting the long crack in the skirting and the hardly imaginable space below the floor;.
