LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
CAMP Poetry |
by Hiram Larew and Stephen Daniel |
POWER Whenever they have to Chickens look up at us Just like depending on when Kids won't be quiet if we ask Or how it rains sometimes so hard There are questions The best thing to teach someone is to swallow The best kind of angry to get is ribbon The best place to surprise yourself is water I for one will never give up Even if I have to I'll keep trying just like burlap As much as I need to Like someone nearing to leave. EVERY TIME IT LEAKS My grandmother loved cool whip In heaps She also killed every plant she owned Even pansies I think she wore her mink stole just to church There and back My grandfather loved her And owned the feed store And when she tripped over the edge And broke something It meant no baths in the tub ever again Most of all she liked traffic through town and little smells of weakness The only time I saw her shake Was when she handed me over his watch It was some white Christmas When my voice she swore was changing. -- Hiram Larew Brother younger by years older and wiser by life we walk as little boys again down the main street of a small town with an invisible dog at our side and an invisible grandfather between us holding us up by our fingers we talk without words lighting cigarettes and blowing smoke rings from the corners of our mouths gazing at the corner of a blue virginia sky a train whistles in an instant we hug my arm falls around your shoulders your arm sits on mine i let go then kiss your cheek playfully boyishly manfully i say i love you out loud brother LONELINESS Silent Sunday morning Alone in bed With a cup of coffee and the New York Times Thinking of you Two pillows and one head With no one to talk to I arise Dust the sleep out of my eyes Dispose of my dry drawers And wash away the unused sweat of the night -- Stephen Daniel |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 9, No. 13, Sept. 17, 1999 |