Lamont Palmer Poems
Rain, Isolation, Self-Analysis
'The world is myself; life is myself'. - Wallace Stevens
The gray has delivered a calm emptiness,
over subdued thinkers and lonely movers,
who look through windows and the windowless.
It is like old men relinquishing ornery youth,
relinquishing the spirit of the hipster years,
and within this approaching, full downpour,
nothing is as fresh as hibernation
in the warmth of things or in summer's arms,
where the heat can be like a bold lover,
till it pulls back and cools again,
vastly different from days of detachment.
The house is the ...
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,
summoning the equally unknown people
to altars of rancor and resignation.
What do they do but recognize a human
in the grip of edgy, illegible lives,