James Thomas Miller Poems

What do you buy for those cypress-still afternoons
when her neck chromes with sweat and she nurses
a plastic cup of scotch as "I'll Come Running"
melts across the honey-thick light of her porch
...

For three years we perfected vanishing in
the doorways of friends, sexy as two blue lips.
Lovely Laura‚ voice waned bottleneck slide‚
...

No easy choices or peripheral vision‚ really‚
conversations begin and end on a leer
cleft with trilled penny whistle‚ mule whips‚
a disembodied chorus chanting tee-yah
...

The day is past, the sun is set,
And the white stars are in the sky;
While the long grass with dew is wet,
...