Eric Paul Shaffer Poems

A woman is liquid because she flows. She carves arcs and curves
in the vessel she forms. She is moved by the moon. She is a fluent

force that endures in all senses, for the world as it is without her
...

This day, we welcome you.
We teach our ways to greet you.

We are one kind among many the world encircles.
...

At the podium, the famous poet is having sex with his wife
in the poem he reads tonight. He uses the four-letter word.

The act is all ankles and elbows, slits and staffs, grunting,
...

From the road below the volcano,
the poet's house is burning.
Fire flashes from windows,
yet the next curve reveals reflections
...

His beat-up green pickup faces Haleakala, her thrashed
Celica toward K-Mart, on the shoulder of Pulehu Road. The lovers
stand in roadside mud, arms encircling
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He borrows his house, as I borrow mine.
We are strangers where we live.

This little crab makes me think
...

Call them mad, call them evil,
they are men with ideas
like the ones we celebrate
on the proper occasions: God,
...

Today, I'm a shadowless man.
The sun calls me into the street,
and I walk alone into the light
of noon. The moment has come.
...

For centuries, poets have been getting it wrong.

They bring 'one perfect rose' to show their love
to their lovers, but now I think
...

Some favor fire to end the world.
Cold is kinder.
From life to light in flames unfurled,
some favor fire to end the world.
...