Max Reif Poems

Without a companion or laptop
or even a book or newspaper,
his skinny frame sits hunched up
in old jeans and a sweatshirt,
...

The real Revolution
would be to institutionalize
...

When I was an orphan
you took me in,
your branches were
my only green.
...

Audrey played in the sandbox,
Alone with a red, plastic fish.
Ryan grabbed it to take it away,
Wanting to play with it, too,
...

1.
Experience.
I am heavy
with experiences,
fruits on a tree
whose trunk is thick now.
...

God is not
a dog
whom we
can train
...

A funny thing happened
on the way to the New Age
around the year 1980,
as the Celestial Seasonings
...

Closing the car door behind me,
I walked through an intense sunset
toward Radio Shack, a block away.
...

My poems hang out on the corner.
They go for rides with strangers.
Like any parent I worry.
...

These timeless scenes of war,
of the people leaving their homes,
the columns of soldiers and tanks
and the rubble left by the shells —
...