Friday, January 6, 2017

2 poems

by chuck leary


i always thought that

i would find


on a dark highway
on a rainy street

in a dimly lit cafe
on a lonely road

on an empty subway car
in milwaukee

a motel room
in las cruces new mexico

standing over a juke box
in manitoba or tokyo

at a bus station
in vladivostok


maybe not love

or peace
or illumination

or divine revelation
but something

something i would only know
when it happened


i was not worried
about losing the group

even though
my black suitcase

wth my new novel in it
of which i was so proud

was in the group baggage
being taken to the bus

under the curved marble staircase

when the old woman
with the round lined face

leaned over to me
and whispered

“you are quite a character”
and laughed softly

she and another old woman
began talking in french

but so softly
i could not understand them

when i went down the stairs
the bus was gone

but i was not worried

“i knew the area”

wide polished vistas
in gleaming red and orange

and white porcelain tunnels

with a hint of rain
and the cafeterias were closed

i kept going in circles
but was not worried

except a little bit
about the suitcase with my novel

i was never in a dream

which was more obviously
“just a dream”

but when i woke up
i was surprised

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