Gary Corseri Poems

Who are these fools who talk so glibly
about war, and sending messages, our role
in the world, credibility? Who elected them,
who signs their checks, what games do they play
...

He had a little truth;
He held it with his might.
A little, shining thing
To get him through the night.
...

That night, you went swimming in my brain
and all your scales were glimmering;
you sang an old song, too,
about the wind in a bamboo forest.
...

When Kathy Kelly Went to Jail


by GARY CORSERI
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I dream of bamboo women:
slender, arching reeds along the river bank,
swaying long, lean bodies
as yellow as the face of China.
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Her mind is no less than the autumn light
upon the heirlooms that arrange her home
upon the hill that overlooks the sea.
Like polished silver in the peace of night
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(for Joye- )

Now float me down from that high town, my love;
for we are born to sorrow, men have said,
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The people of Somalia are not like us.
Their skin is black and gray and parched by sun.
They carry their babies on bony hips,
Walking for miles for a little water.
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He wants a new language!

Ratta-tat-tat! Ratta-tat-tat!
...