Glen Martin Fitch Poems

I picked a pebble
from a gritty shore.
I licked it.
'Tell me of your molten birth,
...

At dusk
the city's restless crowd
begins to thin
into a park, or
...

Back there are storage rooms
crammed to the beams
with trunks of costumes,
coats, and shoes and hats,
...

Romance would have us
never question love.
To barter for affection
does seems crude.
...

Our her: Super?
No! Disguised as me.
Love interest?
You, confused
...

Papyrus, parchment, paper,
email, tweet.
Forbidden or betrothed,
all lovers quest to find
...

I hear your pain, my friend.
You do seem stuck.
With every effort thwarted
you're depressed.
...

Upon the hippos' backs 
the egrets light
to feed on ticks. 
Their darting eyes 
...

If only what?
So what's the cross you bear?
If fools and tyrants
stayed out of your way
...

I think you're always
looking for a fight.
You spring dive into isolation.
While we dodge your dribbled venom,
...