twenty proverbs in the grass
rain cloud in a mason jar
broken music playing, meter off
will we drive to Tallahassee
or are you in the mood to juggernaut
under the water tower out of my arms
we'll build a little stockpile for two
of old dented cans and wire dolls
picked up on the whirling avenue
in bigger moments with lighter intent
than all this crying in our gloves and muddy words
yes load it in the back
no don't turn off the coffee light
where we're going we'll have no end of past
in our hotel breakfast is served
until you can sing no longer
down the waters that run beneath the bridge
in our hotel the light is kept
in a box of thorn
none coming out
until box open time
that time a little sooner
each blame-loving day
© 2006 Max Winter
's poems have appeared recently or are forthcoming in New American Writing, Free Verse, Tarpaulin Sky, the Colorado Review, and elsewhere. A chapbook of his poems, The Pictures, will be published by Tarpaulin Sky later this year. His reviews have appeared in Bookforum, the New York Times, the San Francisco Chronicle, and other publications. He is a poetry editor of Fence.
