Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Alan Inman- Three Poems

Seeing Red

Flash of crimson,
that's the truth as we know it,
brief animal passion expressed
in red ink

Correction tape, Valentine's hearts,
all dipped
in the pulsing ink well.


I am neither here
nor there, an amalgam
of my favorite writers.

I can hear them singing
to me as I write.
I can remember their
titles as I think of my own.


Like an old book
left out too long, I'm 
going to renew myself,

a slip into the tall trees
this weekend,
a walk by some river

Fills me with a loud
quiet unlike others.

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