Gregg G Brown Poems

Kansas dust and Kansas drab and dull
Left me rusty and kept me a girl-
So little air of loving, and of love less,
No gladness in my heart whirled.
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I’ve had enough of little men
Who dreamed the opaque moon caroused,
Who drain their whiskey dram, and then
Refuse the dreams such frenzies rouse.
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There's a dark deep down in ordinary things
Resists our bringing them into view,
Or else in bringing them what light we bring,
As if to ask the question 'Who are you? '
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I have been in existential hail
Since Noah first began to bail;
Hailstorm, shake me till my sadness goes;
Strike me till new blood flows.
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I mend an image worn
By sitting, by fluffing, by naps:
A spatter of nasturtiums
In a delightful but unnatural pattern
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I
Perhaps it is no occasion for a poem,
Being alive, and so much of the world gone over
To death. Being alive ought to be to be, to
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Our house was not a house until we built it—
Cobbled together like lincoln logs,
Pegged, dovetailed by pain,
By tragedy
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As snow and snow will in snowing meet,
What slid down danced into a wild sleet
And randomly clung, each to each,
Resisting ocean's disassembling touch
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If I’d’a closed my eyes and wished,
I wouldn’t switch a whisker of our rig.
Drift a bit, fish a bit. Drift, fish.
A sunset catfish came along as big....
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