for Tory and A.S. Essential it was that she was a foreigner – Misreading, mistaken and thus so much warmer. And as I from her her was equally estranged – Oh we passed such pleasant, such comfortable days! Younger, she… Read More ›
love
They did this for any number of years
They did this for any number of years. She would tell him, often with tears, She was suffering—at her job, in her Personal life. He would say or try As diplomatically as possible . . . “Were it me, …. Read More ›
Perhaps rebellion keeps a boy warm
God, in His infinite wisdom Has invented so many things Like coats, sweaters and umbrellas To keep my dear son warm and dry And buds for cellphones so that I Might not hear every word that strangers’ Mothers say… Read More ›
Another Kind of Love Poem
Putting together a sort of book of my poetry to submit to the US Copyright Office, I came across this old poem, which I wrote when my son was 8—rather than 17 and soon to go off to college! The… Read More ›
The Love Song of an American President
We begin somewhat gently, as many courtships begin. Dressed with more class, she wanted him, while naturally he Felt the clothes on his back—this was for him to decide. Not, said the young lady, if you want me for your… Read More ›
![Fall_leaf_watercolor,_William_Eaton,_Dec_2017[1]](https://montaigbakhtinian.files.wordpress.com/2017/12/fall_leaf_watercolor_william_eaton_dec_20171.jpg?w=120&h=120&crop=1)
November Love Story
On the sidewalk by a plant store on East 10th Street A dying little plant, mainly brown twigs Dumbly awaiting the garbage collector One of the workers shrugged—it’s all yours and free On my warm bathroom ledge, the warming… Read More ›
Not these outward copies
A stumbling sonnet duet, for V.T. “Not these outward copies, But we combined, despite and all ready And by somehow just by ourselves Conversation stumbling While fingers softly curl Round these our gloved bodies Found, despite, deservedly Side… Read More ›
