Archive for August, 1992

Back to the Closet Space

Posted: August 28, 1992 in Poetry
Tags: , ,

sometimes, like a tortoise,
I shoot back into my closet space,
and then, feeling foolish,
I lurk about, scowling
as a crooked pair of cartooned eyes
behind the shuttered doors.

I rub my carpet for reassurance,
I crouch and wave my arms and
I make faces and obscene gestures
at the backs of the doors
where no one really sees me
being so rebellious.

Untitled Poem #134

Posted: August 6, 1992 in Poetry
Tags: , ,

as a poet I tell you
my dreams and what
I think about,
and certain selected fears.
I write to tell you these things,
and I pretend
that you are listening.
not so different
from anyone else.

The World in My I’s

Posted: August 5, 1992 in Poetry
Tags: ,

I always think that
I start too many poems
with I.

I wonder if people really care
what other people really think.

But it’s enjoyable to think
someone else will enjoy
looking through my I’s.