" ... for who can catch Daphne running dry beside the river bank?"

-- Don Taylor

"Hey amigo, a girl likes me, a girl actually likes me!"

-- Mark Larsen

______

Contact
Mr. Taylor

______

Contact
Mr. Larsen

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Poetry by Men about Women

Equational

A year since the laurel given Apollo,
a consolation prize for failing.
He almost had her hair;
but another lunge missed meant metamorphosis
and a thousand girls changed shape--
sublimation into a tree.

Bold lovers, like Apollo, thaw and run
their melting cords into the river's run--
can do naught else but watch Daphnephoria
and hear the concent of bees about the hive;
bees in the plane trees guarding Arette,
guarding Laura in laurel trees.

Laura is poetry Petrarch invented;
a wreath is a laud where Caesar bled,
a wreath is a god on Bellvina's bed
like a voice in a bush, burning
persimmon and woman scented.

Orpheus sings man his singing rites;
Laura runs with carnal motion.
A lantern-bearer lights the night
where the river becomes the ocean.

A poem is a feast celebrating fail,
for who can catch Daphne running dry
beside the river bank? Words fail trees,
flowers, faith and dance and even in resurrection,
eschaton must be faced.

Laurel trembles knowing, so easy in her chamber,
what the Caryatid harking knows, hiding in the trees.

Who knows what poets chase?-- Daphne or a shepherd dog,
and how can we know the venial chaser from the chaste?

_________________--Don Taylor






The last time we talked

we sat in a back booth
of a Broadway diner
passing each other the cream.

I remember your 'I like you'
came with a story attached to it,
a series of Mike Hammer clues
to a Sunday afternoon mystery:
the first accidental meeting,
first phone call,
repeated phone calls,
unreturned phone calls,
yellow traffic light confusion,
a summation, a pause, and then,
there it was, the verdict -
I like you.

I wanted to shout
to the busboy ignoring us,
"Hey amigo, a girl likes me,
a girl actually likes me!"
What came out was,
"Can we have a little more coffee over here?"
and a quick reply, "Well, I like you, too."

There was to be no commitments, of course, you let me know,
and I quickly added your half share of the rent
back to my monthly expenses.

When the check came I offered to pay,
basically because I thought an 'I like you'
was worth a cup of coffee and a slice of seven layer cake.

On the street corner we shook hands.
I was under the impression when you said 'I like you'
to someone in the back booth of a Broadway diner
there was a kiss involved somewhere.

That was the last time we talked.

_________________--Mark Larsen






And Away We Go

The moon's been pissing me off lately.
I mean, I'm cool with the moon and all,
don't get me wrong,
it's just that my baby's
spending an awful lot of time
gazing at it,
singing to it,
even writing poems about it,
and if I'm honest,
I have to admit I'm a bit jealous
of that white orb up in the night sky.

See, right now,
I've got me some lovin' to do,
and I don't need any help,
Mr. Ever-Changing-My-Shape,
Mr. Ever-Affecting-The-Tide,
Mr. Horoscope-Know-It-All.

So listen up, Mr. Man In-The-Moon.
You better watch out -
I'm on to you, pal, I'm on to you.

_________________--Mark Larsen