THE UNMOVED MOVER
The shadow in the woodshed
sees without being seen,
hears without being heard,
touches without being touched.
sees without being seen,
hears without being heard,
touches without being touched.
The shadow at the top of the stairs,
the shadow in the closet,
the shadow gathering dust in the attic
the shadow in the closet,
the shadow gathering dust in the attic
scratch at the doors,
snuffle behind the closed doors,
spy through the keyholes of locked doors.
snuffle behind the closed doors,
spy through the keyholes of locked doors.
They smell our thoughts,
taste our feelings,
suck out our eyes.
taste our feelings,
suck out our eyes.
"Bring out the dead!"
they cry from the woodshed,
from the top of the stairs,
from behind the locked doors.
from the top of the stairs,
from behind the locked doors.
"Bring out the dead!"
they call from the attic.
(Gathering dust in the attic.)
(Gathering dust in the attic.)
And they write on the mirrors,
they write on the walls,
they write on our foreheads,
they write on the walls,
they write on our foreheads,
while we smile in our sleep
and the cracked egg falls.
and the cracked egg falls.
KINDERTOTENLIEDER
In Memory of Gustav Mahler
Under the under.
Above the above.
Above the above.
A hand touches.
A word startles.
A word startles.
Empty nests
hang from branches
like bitter fruit.
hang from branches
like bitter fruit.
And what remains
fills the vacuum
of an open mouth crying,
fills the vacuum
of an open mouth crying,
Woe! Woe!
and a poisoned well
where the children drink.
where the children drink.
And bread
coming up from the ground
to grab its brother Cain by the wrist.
coming up from the ground
to grab its brother Cain by the wrist.
Dead swans and dying crows
litter the lily ponds
where once there were toads
croaking jub-jub to dirty ears
litter the lily ponds
where once there were toads
croaking jub-jub to dirty ears
that heard nothing,
understood nothing
understood nothing
except a far off cricket
in a bamboo cage,
in a bamboo cage,
and the open mouth
of a poisoned well wailing,
of a poisoned well wailing,
Woe!
Woe!
Woe!
Woe!
Woe!
THE LAWS OF PHYSICS
A body in motion
tends to stay in motion
tends to stay in motion
on another motionless body
floating, motionless,
at the bottom of a puddle
of sea-foam floating
to the surface of the sea,
at the bottom of a puddle
of sea-foam floating
to the surface of the sea,
endlessly rocking.
Bionote
Bionote
L. G. Corey has published one poetry collection, The Kalidas Verses, last February. Another, Rats’ Alley Poems (which takes its title from The Wasteland by T.S. Eliot, to whom the collection is dedicated), will be published sometime in early 2016.
In addition, his work appears in literary magazines such as Chaffey Review, Empty Sink, Snapping Twig, Corvus, Screech Owl, Hot Tub Astronaut, and Pif. Over the years it’s also been published in Evergreen Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Midstream, Choice, the Critic, and Zeek.
Larry turned 80 last November.
In addition, his work appears in literary magazines such as Chaffey Review, Empty Sink, Snapping Twig, Corvus, Screech Owl, Hot Tub Astronaut, and Pif. Over the years it’s also been published in Evergreen Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Midstream, Choice, the Critic, and Zeek.
Larry turned 80 last November.
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