“Stand where I am standing,” he said, “across from the wine colored window.” The man was full of spirits, I could tell. I was tired from the road and in a funk, sick of wine and, well, I thought that I might drink his words and by his breath get drunk. “See?” he said, “aContinue reading “The Tavern Guitar”
Tag Archives: Poem
A little space
A little space here which I have walked into where love resides but lies hidden, gathers dust. A quiet space where love resides but relaxes and changes its clothes. I can’t make it out. The light is uncomfortably dim, but comfortable almost in the non-knowledge that love resides, that it rests in a chair, whichContinue reading “A little space”
Davis, California
Eleven poems about my pitiful heartache. I looked up at the end to see no one. Somehow my reading had emptied the joint. I’m through with this city. Or it with me. Whichever. [A mirror cinquain, inspired by Yeah Write’s March poetry slam. I cheated a little by having three syllables on the first and lastContinue reading “Davis, California”
Stepping Out
Stepping out through the door of his house, which was swollen by the moisture and did not shut properly, casting off his shoes to thrust his feet in the uneven grass, which, dead and alive, was a chorus of mute tones, browns and reds and greens, casting off his sleepiness with a shudder as heContinue reading “Stepping Out”
The Difficulty
The difficulty in life is not getting what you want but knowing what you want. So crouch down to yourself as if to a dying man and place your ear to your mouth–an impossibility but a necessity, and what is a necessity must necessarily become possible–and listen to your body’s faintly murmured wishes, a glass ofContinue reading “The Difficulty”
David Hammond 