Michael Philips Poems

An aging warehouse with a cement floor,
broken glass, and swooning walls.
Proud of its code violations.
No ads or radio spots, you just had to
...

You were not fishing for hookers, more like killing
minutes in the time capsule, chatting with the hotel
manager, tilting in towards you as if cargo had shifted,
his European head and fat hands and eyes that drooped
...

The locusts come to buy trinkets
And observe tango demos.
A man in a red sweater motions,
His hand is a flag.
...

This new software is great.
I have the power to remove
homeless people by clicking
on the shopping cart icon.
...

If I lived here
I would not find the cloud constructions
or the flattened topography remarkable.
I would not dwell on the broadband
...

(A narrative)

Met her at the seminar and asked her over for an
early dinner. I assured her my aim was not to get
...

When a player goes down,
Drop to your knees and lower your head.
Place pom poms to one side and raise crossed fingers.
When player stands and is helped off field,
...

He launched his coffee ground
bitter scowl at me as I walked
home from school every day,
careful not to step on his property.
...

I spotted someone standing alone
at the back of the reception
watching us with quiet disdain,
probably thinking:
...

After I die
some will mourn
Others will put on the face of mourning
They’ll gather together at two o’clock
...