poem index

Red Bank

Lesle Lewis
I wanted a horse.  

I jumped from a plane.  

I was not comfortable with your illness.  

I was a detective at the wedding.  

I recognized the new way it would be with you in rehabilitation.  

I saw how the sunset colors on the Navesink River got sad with the lone rower.

I lived on a lone planet with my befuddlement. 

I'd lost a person.  

I didn't know how to hold my lips.  

I was like the goose bathing in parking lot puddles.  

Definitely, I am on a train.  

Copyright © 2011 by Lesle Lewis. Reprinted from lie down too with the permission of Alice James Books.

Lesle Lewis

by this poet

The rain does not cool and is a sticky one to the present and the place.
Is it a weakness, yours for narcotics?
The trees levitate and become mountains.
You stand in the water inside a melancholy boulder.
Now you're a flying sandwich.

Happy for nothing, we could be with no dinner to cook.

Absence is gigantic in our heads and houses.

We’re old and it’s bold to say so standing at the kitchen counter with the flashing red things.

The clock says midnight and we say yes.

When we go out, time always pays.