Glenn Latal Poems

There comes a moment when the membrane is pierced.
When our invulnerability leaks from us,
Silently, invisibly, from one second to the next.
Our cocoon of faith has sprung a doubt.
...

Her steam starched, water whitened, raw reddened hands
smelled of bluefish and clean pots hot and drying.
One hip cocked, unwantonly saucy,
her pen approaches pad as though taper to votive candle.
...

I have long wished to be Brahms
With girth and beard and an air of conviction,
Belonging right here, on this street, in this skin.
Old bull elephant, worn tusks, swaying trunk,
...

I
Trickling smudges against the sky,
The city is heating water to stimulate its spirit and rinse its soul.
This day has arrived wearing a dirty white overcoat
...

Throw back your head and laugh a heaven into the sky.
An aerie for the mirthful gods.
Pipe me a joyful tune and I’ll sing of hope and trust and effort rewarded.
Restock the myths, the truisms by which we live.
...

I watch the afternoon brush a coat of fresh shadow
Onto the building across the street.
It fills the view through the window of this quiet café.
The day cools and darkens around me.
...

Did they slash within the torrent, feuding still
and Noah already fathoms above them?
Was even the deluge not enough?
When the waters rise over our heads
...

Flakes flutter and glide mutely,
sopping up the overflow of sound,
coating the frictions of living in these depths.
Of what use is snow in a city?
...

It does not come.

Perhaps it will bring release,
the unbridled exuberance of casting free
...

I am wandering the swarmed aisles, perusing the tempting stacks.
Idly seeking, I come upon a volume of poetry.
Nothing leaps under my gaze, bolts into the unknown,
a white dazzle smear of tail luring pursuit.
...