Dissonant Trio

Eureka!

No choir has come to sing Hallelujah.
No medicine's dropped from the cabinet
To suddenly float me away from my
Decades of gloom. Lightning is absent,
No lottery won, but something equivalent
Seems to have happened: her little black
Bathing suit lies on the floor.


Night Crawler

The fragrant odor of shitty gin, the stain
Which bleeds from the napkin (I spilled)
Into gathering shadows of trees on the
Fields. The sun has abandoned us.
Welcome the moon, and let mayhem
Ensue, and let lizards in caves, in their
Blindness, be prophets of translucent
Truculence. We should go home,
But our spouses, diurnal, will spurn
Us. Besides, I am loving the taste
Of your lips in the moonlight. I'm
Too drunk to drive. I am tired of life.
Let me end what I am in your arms.


Silent Running

Ships may pass at night, but they are stupid things,
And cannot love. They pass without acknowledgment,
Without recriminations, without feigned indifference
Or urges to begin to speak. She and I are due to reach
A narrow channel. We will meet, but we are not
Two stupid ships, and, though I know we'll pass
In silence, I will feel an awkwardness no metal
Craft could feel, and so will she.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 65 times
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Written on 2010-08-22 at 12:58

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