Swans Commentary »
July 28, 2008
by Michael Doliner
Poetry
(Swans - July 28, 2008)
At night, in a back alley, under a dim bulb,
I hang around a car with another guy.
Hemmed in by dead buildings that rise into darkness,
We mumble about what is wrong,
Lean under the hood,
Do nothing.
Bits of broken concrete crumble underfoot.
A tired smell of garbage hangs in the air.
Everything is vague in the ghostly orange glow.
Another guy with a blurry face
Walks up on the other side of the car.
"What are you doing here?" he asks me.
His voice is familiar from long ago,
But I can't place it.
He pauses to look at me,
Then continues on into the darkness.
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Internal Resources
Poetry
America the 'beautiful'
About the Author
Michael Doliner has taught at Valparaiso University and Ithaca College. He lives with his family in Ithaca, N.Y.
Legalese
Please, feel free to insert a link to this work on your Web site or to disseminate its URL on your favorite lists, quoting the first paragraph or providing a summary. However, please DO NOT steal, scavenge, or repost this work on the Web or any electronic media. Inlining, mirroring, and framing are expressly prohibited. Pulp re-publishing is welcome -- please contact the publisher. This material is copyrighted, © Michael Doliner 2008. All rights reserved.
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