August Kleinzahler

New Jersey / United States
August Kleinzahler
New Jersey / United States


Hit Title Date Added
The Dog Stoltz
The dog Stoltz pushed his paw pads into my neck,
the warm, beaten leather deep under my chin,
and let slip the one paw to up near my mouth
A faint smell of urine
embroidering that bouquet of mold the big cushions
give off days the fog won't lift,
Before Dawn on Bluff Road
The crow's raw hectoring cry
scoops clean an oval divot
of sky, its fading echo
among the oaks and poplars swallowed
East of the Library, Across from the Odd Fellows Building
That bummy smell you meet
off the escalator at Civic Center, right before
you turn onto McAllister,
seems to dwell there, disembodied,
A Fable
Weasel and the Ponce were having a confab
under the chinaberry tree,
in the shade of the dusty old tree—
pious Weasel, indefatigable Ponce.
The Tartar Swept
The Tartar swept across the plain

In their furs and silk panties

Snub-nose monkey men with cinders for eyes
As You Never Bothered to Return My Call
What I had wanted was to be chaste,
sober and uncomfortable
for a sprawling episode on a beach somewhere
dirty, perennially out of fashion;
The Strange Hours Travelers Keep
The markets never rest
Always they are somewhere in agitation
Pork bellies, titanium, winter wheat
Electromagnetic ether peppered with photons
How much meat moves
Into the city each night
The decks of its bridges tremble
In the liquefaction of sodium light
And the moon a chemical orange
Green Sees Things In Waves
Green first thing each day sees waves—
the chair, armoire, overhead fixtures, you name it,
waves—which, you might say, things really are,

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4/17/2021 7:03:05 AM #