Saturday, February 18, 2012

The Woman from College

Amherst is chilly; we shiver and sneeze:
Behold, a poet on his knees!

It's 1990. I am twenty-one.
I drink large draughts of wine to the lees.

You like Public Enemy, I like the Cocteau Twins.
I cherish your voice, a soothing breeze.

You are springtime in December, gentle warmth
Giving life to the shyest leaves of trees.

You are my solace in the midst of woe;
You are healing for all my injuries.

I love you in your fierce disconsolacy,
In the righteous wrath that I cannot appease.

Tom o' Bedlam worships you secretly--
With your jet-black hair and torn dungarees.

In the Silverware Drawer After Dark

The steak knives are playing the Ramones at full blast. The salad forks are dancing with the teaspoons to the tune of "Come On, Ei...