Poetry from Michael Brownstein

A WALK SOMEPLACE ELSE

I do not know where this will take me
and what it is like to leave behind.

The window outside is large and ungainly
and the nearby door minus a lock.

The path away leads to a driveway, a sidewalk
a parking lot at the end of a series of stores.

Somewhere a train track and somewhere a train
and somewhere I do not know a passenger waits for me.

INHABITANTS OF THE SONG

When the inhabitants of the song left the notes,
Wintergreen brush blossomed rose red and lilac blue,
Vitamins rose in the water and pushed away salt,
Calcite and iron washed their way to the surface.

When the inhabitants of the song left the notes,
Seesaws and jungle gyms became user friendly,
Everyone climbed the gym rope and rang the bell,
Track and rugby records fell to the side like cotton seed.

When the inhabitants of the song left the notes,
Chocolate filled with almonds and cotton candy,
Pecans opened easily and walnuts no longer had shells,
And everywhere melodies of rainbows and M & M’s.

A SEMBLANCE TO LOVE

A semblance to love
as in a semblance to cloud
as in a semblance to water
dripping into a test tube
near a Bunsen burner,
the moisture impressing itself
into shelves against the glass.