Allen Blue Poems

I have nothing new to write.
From too many recastings
The material has grown brittle.
It’s best to find another
...

I've always hated getting a haircut,
because, despite my protestations,
the only style that seems befitting
for a man with Asian hair
...

If you can write it in three words
then it's a universal truth.

If it takes four to nine words
...

I went to the priest
When my prayers started
Going straight to voicemail.
He smiled and said I just needed
...

The evening opens on our moon, crisply folding
Into the nighttime panoramic of starry stars
Staring at the old man marquee blissfully exposing himself
To the passersby happening by with echoes
...

We were still growing into our shoes
when I found my father's radio
and took you to a summer field.
While twisting to Sam Cooke
...

Do not punish me
for wanting to poeticize
an ideal inspired by
a woman wandering
...

A young nurse, while drawing my blood,
tried making small talk by telling me
about Tuscan sunflower fields she wanted to visit.
She hoped they would be as she remembered
...

After the swing shift at the yard,
you'd sit on the couch,
with your shirt stained under the arms,
swearing that you were starting to rust away
...

I want these words to feel
like the delicate skin
on the underside
of your favorite flower.
...