Terence Winch

I can't think of anything else
to talk with you about. We have
discussed our jobs, our daily commute,
...

Old people cry too much.
They walk in the morning
to the railway station.
...

Whereas time has caught up with me and the boiler
broken down again, and day after day it snows and snows
and there I am, with my shovel, in the dark
...

Guy asks me for $1.80 on the subway.
White guy, bald, shirt and tie.
Says they towed his car with his wallet in it.
...

Small green couch in the living room. I come home at night and sit in it.
'Law & Order' is on TV. I have a glass of cheap cabernet and make eggs
for dinner. It gets later and later. I hit the mute button and listen
...

An old man arrived at my door with light bulbs.
I opened the door a crack
and asked what he wanted. He said he wanted
...

Father Ray Byrne quickly became
a star. He played sports, danced,
sang, told jokes. He was a man
...

All last night I kept speaking in this
archaic language, because I had been reading
Poe and thinking about him. I read 'The Murders
...

In the rain falling on her.
In wide open space I think of.
I wake up without you, smoking
...

The bar is filled with a foul odor, something
to do with the sewage system. People don't mind
one bit. They smoke, talk, make time, drink, dance.
...

My lovers have vanished. I used to have many.
One moved to Boston and married a Japanese photographer.
Another became a famous actress. Another one, who for a long time
...

The molecule bore a remarkable resemblance
to Elizabeth Taylor in a bikini shaving her legs.
I thought I was in Paris and behaved accordingly,
...

we lived one flight up in our
apartment building and whenever someone
would ring the downstairs bell
...

Everything was exactly the way it had always been:
the limos waiting at the hotel in the square, the boutiques,
scalpers, the patter of salespeople, the elaborate
...

Maybe it was the cars crashing tonight,
the full moon, that made us wild.
In the living room there was a big fight
...

These Indian pictures never lie.
Their rules against extravagant innocence
are always religiously obeyed. Old people
...

1642 Argonne Place, NW
Alley of giant air conditioners, you roared
your ill wind our way day and night. We burned
you down, little house, but you rose right up again.
...

In my work, at any given point,
the great issues of identity politics
and dialectical absolutism assume
...

The Documents are weeping, fading,
fearing the worst.
...

Q. How important is theory in this poem? It seems as though
it just starts, goes nowhere, tells us nothing we need to know.
...