Dean Young Poems
|2.||Thrown as if Fierce & Wild||3/2/2016|
|3.||Belief In Magic||2/16/2015|
|5.||My Work Among The Insects||1/20/2003|
|8.||From &Quot;This Living Hand&Quot;||1/20/2003|
It might have been midnight when last we talked
and now I've got this poem that keeps flying
apart which accounts under these xenophobic stars
for all force: gravity, magnetism wind, the ling-
ering of a kiss, a judo throw although
there's yet to be a single formula for it.
Save us from single formulas. One room
smells like ash, another smells like fruitcake.
One cardinal sits on a branch, another under.
You've got to be a bird to understand any of this,
feathery and hollow-boned. You've got to be
a claims adjuster staring at a storm. ...