Mark Jarman Poems
|1.||Then Saw The Problem||3/15/2014|
|2.||Spell For Encanto Creek||3/15/2014|
|4.||Song of Roland||5/16/2015|
|5.||Dispatches from Devereux Slough||5/22/2015|
|7.||Tale Of Two Cities||3/15/2014|
|11.||The Black Riviera||1/20/2003|
|12.||My Parents Have Come Home Laughing||1/20/2003|
|13.||Descriptions Of Heaven And Hell||1/20/2003|
Is nothing real but when I was fifteen,
Going on sixteen, like a corny song?
I see myself so clearly then, and painfully--
Knees bleeding through my usher's uniform
Behind the candy counter in the theater
After a morning's surfing; paddling frantically
To top the brisk outsiders coming to wreck me,
Trundle me clumsily along the beach floor's
Gravel and sand; my knees aching with salt.
Is that all I have to write about?
You write about the life that's vividest.
And if that is your own, that is your subject.
And if the years before and after sixteen