Monthly Archives: November 2012


Being Young Back Then
by Jack Gilbert

Another beautiful love letter
trying to win her back. Finished,
like each night, just before dawn.
Down the Corso Garibaldi to the Piazza
Fortebraccio. Across to the massive
Etruscan gate and up the Via
Ulisse Rocchi. To the main square.
Past the cathedral, past the fountain
of Nicola Pisano. And the fine
eleventh-century town hall.
To the post office so the letter
could get to California in three days.
Then to the palazzo to stand always
for a half hour look up to where
Gianna was sleeping. Longing for
her and dreaming of the other one.



Eve, Anew

The body the many animals bound, the mind the leash.
The furred monster in your throat that snores in its cave
of dark sleep, and the sedate pigeons of your ruffled,
ordinary hands. The wolf, two large cats, the flamingo.
The desert of your back, my dry mouth, your face an oasis.
Your mouth a neon sign that says Enter. Some nights 
you are a safari, by day a petting zoo. I wander through 
the brush, surrounded by your beasts, they watch as 
I pretend I’m blessed enough to name each one.