Lamont Palmer Poems

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Suicide In An Old House

Death surrounds us with blatant arms.
A sanitation worker dies and no one
cares, but banshee phones striking at midnight,

A Future If We Dare

'All that we are not stares back at what we are.' - W. H. Auden


I was a year and a half old when
Two, loud cracks punctured western confidence
Through air; my future head snapped back in grief.

City Of Coldness

Snow claims walkways: restless crystals,
like they are at its mercy, but who really is,
which is the test of wind, or the speed of air.
Intimately involved, shovel and man? Most

Gazing At You, Winona Palmer, My Mother

Shrunken face: brown, refined and small.
Who reduced you to this diminutive size?
When did you become fragility's core?
You scare me. My days tremble like a cold leaf.

Rain, Isolation, Self-Analysis

'The world is myself; life is myself'. - Wallace Stevens


Message Not In A Bottle

Just when I put my mortality behind me
Somebody I know dies; the scourge of daylight
Drops its existential contents and mental bricks
Onto your lap, the comfort zone of life.

Amish Girls

Where is the religious eye? Morning is dark.
In Pennsylvania, a tear has left
youngish ducts, and blood has replaced it.

A Vase In The Corner

Lilies opened into the outer room.
They almost overshadowed the entire place.
It was there in bright recesses the talk
Began, the colors, the aromas filling what

Three Days Of Rain

Drenched assumptions were all we had.
It was alright, she said,
for umbrellas to be panaceas,

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