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poem lonely room poem
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[poem lonely room poem]

Return to the City

The door of the long-distance bus
Closes.
The engine growls,
And light licks the street.
Then it's gone.

I walk by the gutter
Under the nailhead stars.
The key finds the door.
The ashes of last year's wind
Stir in the dead grate.

In my room,
Mildew has disinherited sweat.
I fumble for the light.
My Lady of the Staple
Stares from the wall,
Perfect but unlovely.
I take a chair, and try to believe
The hours will revive
That myth called morning.


Publication details: "Return to the City" was first published in Craccum on 23 April 1979. It first appeared online when posted on the Internet by Hugh Cook on 2004 January 24 Saturday. Copyright © 1979, 2004 Hugh Cook. All rights reserved.


lonely room poem


Author's Notes

A "grate". Part of a fireplace.


Threnody


So they're leaving now, for good -
His son with his decibel music,
His trailblazing machine,
His brazen girl
Immune to the privilege of pity.

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