Poem 15, June 15


After you drink vodka


After you drink vodka & cranberry, you glow,

you look young, no stress lines, no crow’s feet.

I tell you so & you smile.

The poem in that smile, styled

like daffodils in snow, calling up to greet

sunshine, excites me, I’m stung

with the venom of poetry.


I marvel in the moment. The symmetry

of man & poet emerges, thinking & feeling strung

like laundry along a line, towels, shirts, a sheet,

quicken my pulse. My naked emotions run wild;

fueled by your dissolute & mild,

classic beauty. If I had hoped to be discrete,

you drink vodka & cranberry & I hoe a short row.