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 hands

all over these words,
...

my plague name

was Gary
...

out, out,

out on Erie,
...

On a weekday morning,
with free time on my hands,
I stopped in the record shop
at Tower City, downtown Cleveland,
...

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
...