Stephen Dobyns Poems

Hit Title Date Added
Loud Music

My stepdaughter and I circle round and round.
You see, I like the music loud, the speakers
throbbing, jam-packing the room with sound whether
Bach or rock and roll, the volume cranked up so


Each thing I do I rush through so I can do
something else. In such a way do the days pass—
a blend of stock car racing and the never

Over a Cup of Coffee

Over a cup of coffee or sitting on a park bench or
walking the dog, he would recall some incident
from his youth—nothing significant—climbing a tree

How To Like It

These are the first days of fall. The wind
at evening smells of roads still to be traveled,
while the sound of leaves blowing across the lawns

Oh, Immobility, Death

Each dance step we execute is a slap in the face
of immobility. Are you light on your feet? Do you wear
tap shoes and feel an elasticity of sole and thus

No Map

How close the clouds press this October first
and the rain—a gray scarf across the sky.
In separate hospitals my father and a dear friend


Trying to remember you
is like carrying water
in my hands a long distance

Cemetery Nights

Sweet dreams, sweet memories, sweet taste of earth:
here's how the dead pretend they're still alive-
one drags up a chair, a lamp, unwraps


A woman travels to Brazil for plastic
surgery and a face lift. She is sixty
and has the usual desire to stay pretty.

The Delicate, Plummeting Bodies

A great cry went up from the stockyards and
slaughterhouses, and Death, tired of complaint
and constant abuse, withdrew to his underground garage.

Error Success