David Whalen Poems

“Why can’t we go in daddy”
“Maybe another time sweetie”
“Dad, what happened to rags? ”
“He’s found a good home I think”
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In my poetic life
I’ve gained a measure
of celebrity
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One more year to change…
One less year to do it in
Start now…don’t give in
One more chance
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Not all women be sweet
Nor be all women Tiny…
Some seem to me,
To be fresh and beautiful
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They wear suede coats
Of stained leather, torn and worn
Drive battered ol’ pickups
Ride horses in the morn’
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Why do ol’ windmills make me sad
Why do so many people wear sanctimonious faces
Why do lovers lie so bad
And whatever became of shoelaces
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In Winter

I think of summer…
Of feverish glow
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One of the prime requisites
In the writing
of heartfelt prose
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Old sepia photos…
Tear on cheek
Catch in my breast
Chin in my hand
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