Two Poems by Brian Le Lay

Eulogy for a Modernist

They say he hung it all out to dry,
The old forms, his women,
The publishers in New York
Even himself. He said:

"I am not the spokesperson
For a generation," like a father
In denial of his children.
When he died, his women said:

"That's all you ever do;
All you ever do is go."

Blanket Fort

Your heart floats in holy water
When you French kiss
The California Merlot,
But when you were seven
At a moment like this
You would build a blanket fort
In your grandmother's
Dining room, which, then,
Was all you needed
To insulate yourself

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