Ayn Timmerman Poems

Annual perpetual teenagers.
Really it’s not so bad,

I can feel it, the loss of freedom,
...

I finally found a way to
put the insomniacs to sleep-

Initiate the realization that
...

Out the window the stars stay
fixed in place, headlights
passing underneath-
...

I'm not sure if this is in my head, but-
today a man talked to me
in rehearsed tones;
legs as thin as the cigarette
...

The television buzzes and pops
and the dishes loom in their piles
while the dog looks up from
her empty water dish,
...

In Calder's city
you test yourself by
parallel parking on Lyon Hill,
which bisects the old homes
...

Bone weary lie a while, still
counting sheep in the ceiling tiles,
monotonous, long-faced bleaters,
legs flailing over a cobbled fence
...

Shake me-
empty gourd with
dried out seeds,
...

The russack is not for sale,
holy holy holy rabbit's feet,
Feta cheese and lamb,
Gnossos is an anarchist,
...

Push your hand in,
to feel the soft spot
white at the edges,
mold in the damp
...