When the sun comes early
through eastern windows
and a single horsefly buzzsaws the air
it is then I rise from bed
my dreams of amputation, of teeth lost,
cloaked in the amnesia of another day
overwhelmed with trivia.
We make our own rules and lose by them.
This morning after a breakfast of coffee
and ice water I walk to the corner
feeling my liver dissolve in a
cacophony of stale beer and bad whiskey.
June drips a melody sweet as rose water
and the town wakes slowly.
These things are substance, Mary, not prelude.
Only what moves us has meaning.
The rest is lost in a weed-choked yard
or the gutter with brown cigarette butts,
orange peels, used condoms.
When words fail, the hammer drops.
Living can never be its own excuse.
I have carried this gun in dreams:
quiet ones in which a wounded animal
is given peace by the hunter's grace.
Now hunter and animal, I find myself
precipitating an act gentle as June rain.
And in this dazzling pellet-rain
I'll sing the best of all men's songs.
Take care, Mary, of the cats. Smile
at those who call me coward.
These last weeks so free of conflict
are quit also of energy and force.
I am become abstract as a moveable feast,
my life arbitrary, capricious as a poem of Pound's.
Only the gun gives me substance
this trigger my clearest, most careful line.
michael hogan's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Ernest Hemingway,1961 by michael hogan )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Rain Colors, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- THE BEATLES' MEDICAL PROBLEMS, Richard Thripp
- The black color, hasmukh amathalal
- Inner Wastelands, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Wildly Spinning Dirt Clod, Monk E. Biz
- Moon -haiku, Dr PJ Raj Kamal
- The Right Time, Sandra Feldman
- Forces at Play, Liilia Talts Morrison
- A Kind of Vertigo, douglas scotney
- Sacaificed, Tony Ford