Poem Hunter
Poems
A Life Of Crime
(November 11, 1942 - November 12, 1997 / Cincinnati, Ohio)

A Life Of Crime

Frail friends, I love you all!
Maybe that's the trouble,
storm in the eye of a storm.
Everyone wants too much.
Instead we gratefully accept
some stylized despair:

suitcoats left hanging
on folding chairs, snow falling
inside a phonebooth, cows
scouring some sad pasture.
You know the sort of landscape,
all sensibility and no trees.

Nothing but space, a little
distance between friends.
As if loneliness didn't make us
responsible, and want accomplices.
Better to drink at home
than to fall down in bars.

Or to read all night a novel
with missing heirs, 513 pages
in ten-point type, and lay my body
down, a snarl of urges
orbited by blood,
dreaming of others.

User Rating: 3,2 / 5 ( 16 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

Storm in the eyes of a storm! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Beautiful poetry. Rich with vocabulary it flows very nice.Loved it.
Wonderful expression and an interesting imagery. But the mystery, somehow, stays. storm in the eye of a storm / Everyone wants too much. Nothing but space, a little / distance between friends.....didn't make us responsible,
Love this poem... great lines and observations... resolves beautifully.