David Cooper Poems

Imperial, supercilious
Self-crowned
Monarch
Of the bad comb-over
...

(For Natalie)

She was dark and fine
with large African sunsets
...

(For Suzette)
While we walked
Through the gardens
On that rain soaked
...

Blame it on the August Moon
that waxed and waned way too soon.
from fall's eve until December
she burned like an ember.
...

Like Dunbar
A caged bird
Cannot fly.
I spread my wings& try,
...

My father, mother, and I traveled six hundred miles
And twenty years back
In a brand new Plymouth sedan.
...