Other Poets/Other Poems

Anonymous, Issue 17

Antler, Issue 36

Amy Beeder, Issue 16

Boyd W. Bensen, Issue 31

Donna Biffar, Issue 15

Kimberly Blaeser, Issue 27

P. W. Boisvert, Issue 39

Rick Cannon, Issue 28

Jared Carter, Issue 24

David Chorlton, Issue 40

Billy Collins, Issue 1, Issue 18

Steven Coughlin, Issue 39

Philip Dacey, Issue 6

Denise Duhamel, Issue 13

Stephen Dunn, Issue 34

Stuart Dybek, Issue 41

Dave Etter, Issue 14

Norma Hammond, Issue 22

David Hernandez, Issue 23

Susan Holahan, Issue 12

Angela Just, Issue 32

Lisa Kadous, Issue 20

Julie King, Issue 30

Lyn Lifshin, Issue 19

Mary Lucina, Issue 26

Louis McKee, Issue 5

Pamela Miller, Issue 8

Lisel Mueller, Issue 29

Alexis Orgera, Issue 35

James Reiss, Issue 26

Len Roberts, Issue 2

Kristopher Saknussemm, Issue 10

R. T. Smith, Issue 38

Cathy Song, Issue 21

Judith Valente, Issue 37

Charles Harper Webb, Issue 25

Mary Ann Waters, Issue 11

J. D. Whitney, Issue 33

Bayla Winters, Issue 3

Lila Zeiger, Issue 4

Return to Sample Poems

Chaplinesque

How much easier life must have been
before talk, when love was just
a mild palm fluttering above the heart,
silent and simple,

when Mabel, pure as warm milk,
would set the table for Mack,
that mutt-faced man
just back from the war,

a time when cuffing your boss
(or your waiter) was still
considered smart
like indoor plumbing.

In fact, before talk, one might disarm
any landlord, police officer, or villain
(that is, the schmo with coagulated
eyebrows and pointed Rasputin beard)

with a simple roll of the eyes,
a spurt of seltzer,
followed by a hasty exit
around the building
six times.

Yes, friend, with color yet to hit the world
even loneliness seemed better,
heartache, too.

Before talk, dressed in black
alone, one might simply turn,
shuffle off toward sunset
and (in subtitles) call it a day.

--Boyd W. Benson
Copyright © 2004 by Free Lunch Arts Alliance