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Peter Macrow
for the answering machine
I don't have
3 COUNTING MARTINI don't want to talk to my friends,
ex-friends, family,
except Martin,
he's a good boy,
remembered my birthday,
unlike his mother,
who's always drunk.3 COUNTING MARTIN
Minding
Difficult to sleep in this place
with the noise of traffic
of other people's souls, walled
images, unsilent in the craneal black,
Michelangelo's not quite gangrene
marble lament, ovoid mocking
of Brancusi stone and spouting
into midnight the Isenheim St John:
This you have done.
Now pray.
hope
1.
all those poems
in a box
so quiet
you'd think they were dead
2.
you can’t change the past
an d the future never comes
so why all these poems
of pain?
3.
from the western mountain
sound of the white tiger
sleeping
Copyright © Peter Macrow