Poetry Archives - Page 3 of 16 - Baltimore Post-Examiner

The Temple

no one is born in the temple who gives birth to the temple with his mouth? who gives birth to

the road turned out to be an ellipsoid eternal return home eternal return to the parental home the eternal return

Fortunately, you can go out walking. You expect very little, only dusk foreshadowing night, the murmur of animal life at

Leafless, grey, gnarled, they hibernate in the clays of the brown crag. Their red, yellow, orange gildings, two months

My kitchen is blessed with fruity scents of Ethiopian Oromia, the welcoming traces of Chinatown Coffee Company, that quick but

So you think our small town’s

so damn pretty

while you get on your soapbox

‘bout crime in the city.

U.S. troops liberated death camps

in the decade before my birth.

My parents didn’t use the word fascism.

But I knew what it meant.

Only two years before my birth,

Israel was declared a state.

A Chesterfield fast upon her lips (She’s almost Dorothy Parker) A whiskey neat at her fingertips (She’s almost Dorothy Parker)

Maybe the perfect world we seek Is not meant to be; Maybe the bliss of heaven Becomes hell for eternity;

Should I love my IED That goes off so suddenly Not hidden underneath, But for all to openly see?