Troy Cochran Poems

It is the cocktail hour.

Too late
for sneaking up the chimney, bounding
...

I can't eat a mountain of ice cream.
Just give me the cherry on top!

I can't make a living at poetry;
...

I still like to break the ice
Of puddles where I can.
At the junction down a ways
I'm a bull in a china shop;
...

I want to brag my Sun
outpouring from my eye
could bring a stubborn bud to blossom.
...

The solemn silence of my street informs
This lonely miser of his well-deserved
Christmas Eve: white diamonds glittering more
Than I have earned in all my muddy seasons.
...

Sam I am NOT.

Troy I am!
I happen to LIKE
...

(In Earnest of Being Ernest) *

It is what it is.
Whatever it is.
...

Take me back to Appletown.
I missed a few and now I've found.
I'm on a quest
For the Holy Grail of pommes!
...

The persistence of shook leaves
Clinging so tenaciously to life and limb
Is all the roar of my October thinking now.
I, too, am such a tree as all these giants
...

Me know the names of things,
But not yet the feelings in their beings.

Me know you have to hold a thing,
...