poem index

poet

Greg Wrenn

Printer-friendly version

Greg Wrenn is the author of Centaur (University of Wisconsin Press, 2013). He teaches at Stanford University and lives in Oakland, California.

by this poet

poem

I took the night train there,
never dreaming.
To cross the straits
my boxcar crept onto a barge—there was screeching,
several tremendous thuds,
then with a growl
we sailed.
I was already half-awake,
anxious for a volcano, neolithic shrines,
islands to explore
off

poem

And the morning, too,
falters,
struggles to
assert itself,

burn through
the errant
fog, the pines,
scorch the

whole grove
of trees
and crooked
streetlamps. Your

body’s turning,
turning
beside me
in my bed’s—