• Peter Rose


At the River

i.m. EJH


No one reads this corny stuff,

so why bother

as we gather round the river …

There are negatives to eliminate.


One night we will step onto the lucid roof

and take refuge in space

and song

and the brisk pieties of death.






That tree will shine when I am gone,

Those lips kiss another.

My going disturbs no one.




Last Things


When I think of you,

when I remember angles,

idioms, a mole on your neck,

it’s as if I am looking down from a great height,

it’s as if I am the last person on earth,

a crazy man lashed to a mast,

tossed by the indifferent sirocco.