Marc Mannheimer Poems

A house
of stone and glass,
built above the ocean,
reflects the sunlight
...

I saw a picture of her a year ago,
my one time brown-eyed girl.
She looked like she’d hit the pavement,
I guess like the rest of the nation.
...

Some tears taste
like pure, clear spring water,
despite the salt,
and despite the fact that you know
...

my plague name

was Gary
...

Pineapple-topped
palm trees
line the causeways,
geckos
...

my hands

all over these words,
...

fallen leaves – neon green;
underbrush – fluorescent brown;
graffiti – acid rainbow;
rapid transit, rushing through town
...

in primeval slumber,
warm-blood
mother-heart
runs through underbrush,
...

Crescent moon,
and a star, adjacent, almost in its pocket
...

out, out,

out on Erie,
...