View from Staten Island Ferry
the Staten Island Ferry also wailed.
I come to the city
Waking up in a Room by the Pier
the standard criteria, empty,
is a place where the things we never quite see–
is it the reverse, this experience of each foot in a separate
inevitably forgettable, as a whiskey revelation, even if the
glowing brain had enough command of the half-deadened body
Yet he’ll try to encode it anyways, in pictures:
Loving Without Airbags
happens quite suddenly
Ella in the changer,
ankles fail to function as
spiderwebs into a shower of glassy sweat which
centimeter of folded cartilage neatly envelopes nostrils
are the dangers
Charlie Bondhus won his first prize for poetry in the eighth grade; after that he spent four years writing dreadful high school verse. Fortunately, he came to his senses about halfway through college and actually started listening to what other poets were writing. Since then, his work has appeared in Mirage #4: Period[ical], Red Owl Magazine, Poetry Motel, and Swell. He received his MFA from Goddard College in 2005, and is currently pursuing a Ph.D. in literature at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, where he also teaches writing. His critical interests are gender theory, the eighteenth-century novel, and gothic literature. His first book of poems, How the Boy Might See It, is in search of a publisher.
2007, Charlie Bondhus ©.
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