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Three Poems
Lynne Beyer
PROXIMITY
of love delivers
you, a bird in hand
although you flutter in
the space above the caption.
you may rest between starvations
as redeemed as coupons, but always
brute gender.
a gain in felt separation,
perhaps still cousins,
if you eat from the
same shanks.
he drove me home from the prom
(the promontory I stood on alone
like a nail)
no one should have less
sex/life than anyone,
much less a glowworm.
SCRIPT
....so very tired, it was all she
could do to believe
anyone who tells you
it's raining. or bends light
to make it look like rain. the knit
family sank to the bottom of the
old folks' home, congealing
into one character, driven
to adorn themselves as many.
the world turns once a day
to the same place you were.
it's all in the delivery. the gleam
in the eye of the bovine.
STOOP
Every battery can sing
on ice today. storage in books unlocks
those pets from animality and never again
rain. the wetness darks too, as an old fire.
wheat was history, but abstract as we are for
brains, we now eat paper.
to better serve the appetite than hair,
the market closes nightly with our dreams
begging, better to wonder
the knowledge of knowing,
the action of activity,
beast or burden, stoop to concur, it becomes you.
lingo 4
 Books in print by Lynne Beyer
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