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#590
NudeBoth nudity and honestycan be almost frighteningwhen you're not preparedfor them. 12 July 1985 There are two words in this short poem that jumped out at me, ‘almost’ and ‘prepared’. How can you be...
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#591
The BedroomReturning to an unmade bedduring the sixth hourthere seemed to mea shifting calmflowing through those placeswhere our bodies met. Between thin shadowscast by white shuttersechoes of bells...
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#592
Orwell's CaféSitting with The Drowning Manover empty glasseshis concomitant friendfinally spokethough, when they came, he never recognizedthe words he had beenwaiting on those years. He simply stared...
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Tzili: The Story of a Life
Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers – VoltaireOdd title since the book ends when its protagonist is fifteen and really only concentrates on the last two of those years in which,...
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#593
A ReprieveSuddenly tranquillity –floating after drowning –caught between realitiesin the bitter waters ofunrealized dreams and private fears, fighting the urge to panic. Panting with fear –now you're...
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#594
A Familiar PainWe were broken but found each other. Our cuts healed over andour bones knitted together. I thought we were one. But it seems I was wrong: you need your freedom backand in trying to pull...
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#595
Silent WitnessShe did not offer me anynor did I expect her toknowing it was her last. Quickly I became awareof my mouth filling withclichés and platitudestill I felt sick. But I forced myself to...
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#424
The Office PartyILooking in at them: people out of context, in violent relation toeach other…IIunderage drinkers, stereotypes…III…and nobody noticesthe silent Outsiderin his little bubblefloating just...
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#596
LegionOf my feelingsI can never forget that I am their host. They possess me, not I, them. And I have nightmares of exorcismsand what they would leave me. Better the devils you know. 28 September 1986...
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#597
The Gospel According to EstragonGodot came today. We weren't prepared. If anything we were rather disturbed –he wasn't supposed to come(nor was he what I'd expected). So we killed himand buried him...
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#598
For No One ElseI do not want youto read my poems any more. You see only the wordsand not the mysteries. But what is worse isyou don't want to see. 28 September 1986 I was surprised to see this poem...
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#599
Obituary (4.10.86)The drowning man is dead; you killed him. And in my waking hours I will him stay so. Yet he haunts my dreamsand lives on in my memorieslike the reality of a scarred face. And the...
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Deception
I write fiction and I'm told it's autobiography. I write autobiography and I'm told it's fiction, so since I'm so dim and they're so smart, let them decide. – Philip Roth, DeceptionThis year I’ve been...
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#600
The Drowning ManThough I kept my rooms onI'd given up all hope of an audiencewhen one day I was summoned. It was like an interview in the wombbefore being granted life. He read what I'd brought without...
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#601
An Old FriendThe pangs of conscience came laterlike an ancient dog, blind and arthritic, that he could not bear to destroy. Though a good few paces behind him, and forever late, it always arrived,...
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#602
Poem With No TitleThis poem has no captionand that's my problem: what am I supposed to take from it? And no instructions, so what do I do with it? And if it has any answersthen I don't know the...
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#603 – #606, #608
SuburbiaWaiting in his cara timorous husbandlooks at his watchand sighs. DeathShrouded in a doorwayhe watched her passand followed like a shadow. DebtsShe smiled when I encouraged herbut she would not...
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#607
Another StrayHappiness is a stray –though it lets you feed itit's never yours. You go through life losing itand stumbling on it again. Even then it often turns on you. 17 October 1986 Two of the...
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#609
Water from the MoonBetween us, there was“a claustrophobic intimacy,” but is all fear bador does it just setthe limitsof what we can handle? And what are we afraid of? The truth, perhaps? 30 October...
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#610
TruthsThey came yesterdayand unwittingly I let them inafter all, what had I to fear from friends? It must have been while I was sleepingthey made those deep deliberate cutsinto my past. They were...
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