Tom Zimmerman- Two Poems

Private Hymn

At times when heart is dark and mind is dim,

I think of what I lust for, write it as

I must. Barbaric yawp, a private hymn

to measured madness, yin as black as jazz

that wraps its tendrils tight around a qualm

to crush it and release its pent-up yang.

I drink a red with legs, the music calm

but pregnant with a monstrous sturm und drang.

The animality I crave will rise

from pools and caverns deep, be brimmed with wild

surmise, with belly wisdom, feral cries

that crack the dome of heaven, freeing mild

and sexless seraphim whose appetites

catch fire as they descend from frigid heights.

Prince George Hotel Blues, Halifax

The TV news: a power plant’s destroyed,

a kidnapper’s been killed, the hostage safe.

The telephone sits silent, ruin void

of visitors. My shirt and lanyard chafe

my sunburned arms and neck. Those garden beers

were worth the pain: an IPA, a strong

brown ale. And then we walked along the piers,

the harbor boozy blue, each noisy throng

of tourists buying, grazing, gaping—just

like us. Right now, the sun is swording through

the drapes. The king-size bed’s a mess—it must

be love. And now you’ve left me: “Got to do

my hair and put my face on straight.” Who says?

We’ll both be back to work in seven days.

Brief bio:

Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits two literary magazines at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. His chapbook In Stereo: Thirteen Sonnets and Some Fire Music appeared from The Camel Saloon Books on Blog in 2012. Tom's website: http://thomaszimmerman.wordpress.com/