Gregory Liffick- Three Poems

TRIMMED

Leaves
have
no
birth
control,
other
than the
infrequent
fire.
Still,
they
commit
suicide
in
droves,
dropping
from the
limbs
of trees
like
scorned
lovers
from
bridges
or cliffs.


ACCESS

No pin
number
for
entry to
joy.
It
isn't
an account
to draw
from.
You have
to
stuff it
in your
mattress.
Rainy
days
come on
Sunday
when
the banks
are
closed.


ALBERT

Though
he lost
weight,
he'd
already
made
a heavy
dent
in the
Einstein
fabric
of his
life.
His
former
object
would
never
let the
subject
of him
be
light.