Thomas James Martin Poems

Old age, I suppose. Funny, I don't feel old. I want you to push me again, way up high in the swing. Nothing has changed except my joints, and you, who don't really understand that youth goes on and on.

first spring flowers
the same old song
...

When I was skinned
I made a little list-

Call it (Something Here) :
...

At the Alltsaigh Youth Hostel we watched and watched the blue-black water for 'Nessie.' In the kitchen was a drawing of the monster as half-submerged 'tires' with a pointy head attached.

I keep my watch...
...

winter gravestone
hyphen between dates
my father's life
...

Thunder in the morning I complain

Hoeing in the rain
I soon quit the field
...

when
a
line's
a
...

Well, we spent a couple of nights in an all-night laundramat somewhere east of Marble Arch. We had completely run out of money during that phase of our London experience. At least we had shelter, and found some measure of companionship with the assortment of characters doing laundry during the wee hours.

There was the drunken gentleman, who never quite got around to reciting Oscar Wilde's, ' The Ballad of Reading Gaol.' He went on for hours preparing to quote the poem, but never actually uttered a single word of Wilde...
...

her morning song
awakens me
sliced oranges
...