ROBIN WYATT DUNN - POEMS

Robin Wyatt Dunn lives in Los Angeles.

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​this great confusion
hums my voice into being


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I am mighty in the evening
when everything is gone
except the past.
the past is in me; present.
 
I am mighty when I send you words
hearing the thought glean its essence in the fade from right to wrong
and love to heartache
in the motion of lips into the sound
I bless your thought too;
though I have never met you.
 
Still, this is a greeting,
for your tomb.
 
she speaks over the earth,
like a fountain
giggling in her rush downwards to the sea


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she isn't here
 
but I can feel her in my head,
this dizzy weight.
 
Men feel the absence of a woman as this headache;
suppurated under the scalp,
little mountains pushing up from the salty waters
 
men know to construct a logic for the woman's absence;
that though she is gone there is hope for her return
because he can feel her absence,
and this sense is her


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willful midnight and rain
all the barky poems of youth, groaning to its musical party.
 
the black plague of education
and our bedfellows,
nourishing the rot, and the reign of our games.
 
all the pretty things glow quietly at night,
when we are tired,
and the rush of the rain glows over my glasses,
and we pretend.
 
I'll smile and slip under your cuff
like a smoking prank under the hood of your car
to remind you how glorious it is to laugh at your own misfortune
 
this game life plays on you,
saying,
once more,
once more,
once more


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I won't go
when I go
I'll stay here
when I go
when you go
I'll stay here
and say I was you
I'll go as you
and tell you to stay
so I can go too.
 
I'll go with you
when I stay
so you can leave
by me
and I'll know all the things you saw


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she's dancing near a fire
I can see her eyes; a ghost
 
ghost, come closer
I want to hear you breathing


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