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poet

Curtis Bauer

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Curtis Bauer

Curtis Bauer is the author of two poetry collections: The Real Cause for Your Absence (C&R Press, 2013) and Fence Line (BkMk Press, 2004), winner of the 2003 John Ciardi Poetry Prize. A translator of Spanish poetry and prose, Bauer has published full-length collections of translated poetry by Jeannette L. Clariond, Juan Antonio González Iglesias, and Luis Muñoz. Bauer is the publisher and editor of Q Avenue Press Chapbooks, as well as the translations editor for both From the Fishhouse and Waxwing Journal. He teaches creative writing and literature at Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Texas.

by this poet

poem

I’ve got two hands and an urge
to yank out your teeth,

my lover said, dropping the dress
she made from my shirt

to the floor, to see the landscape
a mouth of holes might look like
.

Maybe jagged potholes on a rainslick
street
, she said, climbing over

poem

I’m a liar. It’s not a job
that pays well but I am
my own boss. My wife
brushes teeth. Hers. She
flosses, too. I’ve asked her
to do mine. Get a job,
she tells me. I have one.
I’m a liar, I tell her. We
look at each other, as if
we were

poem

                                  —for Patrick Rosal

Before, ache never seemed long like a tunnel
under the city flaring off another tunnel
the subway rumbled against, or the dark

jutting out of daylight’s reach up on 187th
when I know some part is inhabited and