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Poetry and Groceries


Poetry and Groceries



The difference between my life now and two years ago
Is what makes Portland my home,
In the WholeOatsWildSeasonsNewFoods grocery store is a magazine rack,
Beyond health and current affairs, sidestepping Gourmet, Outside, and Harpers
My eyes rest on Poetry Northwest,
Two chairs invite like campfire stumps,
I read poetry
before buying toilet paper,
admire similes before spinach,

Yesterday, while camped, a poet takes me to Market Street at dusk, riding the streetcar into the amber breast of darkness looking for a lover in red shoes. I rise to pick up milk and eggs.

The boundaries of age and wisdom make me an observer now,
Each day youth depreciates like an oak desk,
An atrophied bank account,
A fine wine, turning,

In the aisles I’m finding unbridled joy in bread sampled, the palate of apples,
a butcher’s banter,
I read and re-read the poems; the universe provides sudden escapes,
Hours later, I see myself at 30 in the eyes of a coffeehouse model;
Brushing crumbs off her Levied thighs, talking to her computer screen, unaware that it’s her black cowboy boots that do the most for me.

C2008 Bruce L. Greene

Comments

haven't had the chance to read your post yet, bruce, i'm just printing it out to read tonigh -- but i thought you might like the following instrumental -- i bet you know it well. it has all the qualities to me of good p[oetry. as you said, 'no need for further illusions, no ,more layers; this is all i need to know:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyM7SNn4SCg

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