Wednesday, October 10, 2007


want him here
want him lie down in dirt
want him dusk and drunk

blame the egg blame the fractured stones
at the bottom of the mind

blame his darkblue glare and craggy mug
the bulky king of trudge and beer stein

how I love a masculine in my parlor
his grizzly shout and weight one hundred drums

in this everywhere of blunt and soft sinking
I am the heavy hollow snared

the days are spring the days are summer
the days are nothing and not dead yet

I in my inhale my red and my coursing
I have no other life than this

~Deborah Landau

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