Jane Adam
Three Poems
Good Morning Pillar
People passing in the street:
I keep a ghost to throw back at each one.
Lion march—snow & more snow.
Lights are red—luck has changed—there’s
a shop window full of artificial limbs
ripe for the transformation.
Didn’t
develop a way to resist the
double dip waffle cone of instant gratification;
did put up with bullshit misery if it
looked like it might pay
dividends:
double the
drunkenness,
dinner spoiled,
door like a turning page.
Do This
Disregard what illusion?
Dark & rainy
day flames like fire.
Don’t want it charred, though…
Do this: it feels shitty but
at the same time
so wonderful