Archives :: Robert Bohm
Clover Leaf Bar
Appeared in the 1999-2004 issue.
We talk about football and making machine tools
and growing old and seeing the legs of women
covered with varicose veins.
For the stranger and I, nothing's unseen.
We want to rip open each other's chests
and tear out each other's hearts and touch them.
Nothing else can keep us alive:
all the hospitals are boarded up and the doctors
roam the airport where none of the planes work
and the guards tote machine-guns.
Everywhere small-minded engineers weep
for their lost blueprints, decaying in the rain.
View bio information and additional poems published in Half Drunk Muse on the author's main archive page.
Copyright 1999-2012 Robert Bohm.