Michael Meyerhofer Poems
|3.||Lessons In Sexual Attraction||3/14/2006|
|4.||Ode To The Repair Guy||2/7/2008|
|6.||What Passed Unsaid||3/14/2006|
|7.||The Trouble With Hammers||8/1/2007|
|8.||The Man With Half An Ear Gets His Hair Cut||2/7/2008|
|9.||My Mother Sent Me||3/12/2015|
|10.||Poem For My Grandfather||10/24/2005|
|11.||Death, The First Time||10/24/2005|
|12.||Poem Written By An Evolutionist Who Believes In The Soul||10/27/2005|
|13.||Building The House||10/24/2005|
|14.||A Knight In Cross-Section||10/24/2005|
|16.||After Watching The Texas Chainsaw Massacre||10/24/2005|
Comments about Michael Meyerhofer
After the funeral, your hair
and skin baked to ash,
your body brought back in a gray box
with a bag of soot inside,
box and bag on a pedestal by the table,
your brother came to see you.
He asked where you were,
and when I said By the table
he thought I said On the table
and he said Here?
peeking under the lid
of an empty drinking cup,
as though we had gone
to the local Kwik Stop
for gas and fountain drinks
then decided what the hell?
and used a cardboard Pepsi cup
for our mother’s urn.
Building The House
With each day, I feel more
the weight of what must be said.
The sentences no poem has touched.
The joy and strife buried in the ground
like coal, and those who go down
have come up choking.
So I draw a steaming bath
and sink in, and the dying begins