August Kleinzahler Poems

The dog Stoltz pushed his paw pads into my neck,
the warm, beaten leather deep under my chin,
and let slip the one paw to up near my mouth
...

A faint smell of urine
embroidering that bouquet of mold the big cushions
give off days the fog won't lift,
...

The crow's raw hectoring cry
scoops clean an oval divot
of sky, its fading echo
among the oaks and poplars swallowed
...

Weasel and the Ponce were having a confab
under the chinaberry tree,
in the shade of the dusty old tree—
pious Weasel, indefatigable Ponce.
...

The Tartar swept across the plain

In their furs and silk panties

Snub-nose monkey men with cinders for eyes
...

What I had wanted was to be chaste,
sober and uncomfortable
for a sprawling episode on a beach somewhere
dirty, perennially out of fashion;
...

The markets never rest
Always they are somewhere in agitation
Pork bellies, titanium, winter wheat
Electromagnetic ether peppered with photons
...

How much meat moves
Into the city each night
The decks of its bridges tremble
In the liquefaction of sodium light
And the moon a chemical orange
...

Green first thing each day sees waves—
the chair, armoire, overhead fixtures, you name it,
waves—which, you might say, things really are,
...