Friday, July 12, 2013

Yury Tarnawsky - from This is How I get well

Lump of Glass

For my thirty-eighth birthday a man
gave me a lump of purple glass.
I'd never seen him before.
I said,
"why are you giving it to me?" He said nothing.
He only smiled
in an embarrassed way
and shrugged his shoulders.

Chicago O’Hare

Sunday afternoon on the plane, waiting
to fly out of Chicago
my mind is full of
thoughts of Frank O’Hara and the
smell of aviation
oil, would like to
see my girl friend on arriving, she’s
entertaining some unknown
scientist at her
home today, the plane will
touch the ground like a man his
wounded heart with his
fingers, I'll get into my
car, cold like the stares of the
passers by, will I call
her, will our love,
relationship last
forever, on my left, beyond
the empty seat, a pregnant
girl sits holding her bulging
belly with the soft
white safety belts of
her hands protecting a
life, who'll protect


Three weeks ago
I still believed in love,
I went for a walk with her
in the woods, autumn-
gold on that February 
afternoon, took 
pictures of her to
frame and kneel 
before when 
she'd be away.

End of the World

Have driven
across the bridge
without having to pay
a toll,
like blood
out of a vein,
the car
tumbles along the concrete as if through space, other cars, trucks tumble past me, some hundred yards ahead where the darkness starts a sign
in red, blue, and white
on a green
1/2 MILE.

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