Proem Press

Selelcted Poems

exponent of the horizontal   mastectomy    Poetry 


 

the journey

 

The dragon lives within.

 

It’s waiting when we’re born,

 

fire in its eyes, fire its breath,

 

although we can’t separate it

 

from the flame we’ve become.

 

The dragon is the other.

 

It inhabits the cave inside us,

 

the shell of scale within the egg,

 

already old when we’re young,

 

waiting for the one who will slay it.

 

Bill drives from Denver to Cheyenne

 

to see his father the night

 

of the heart attack.

 

In the snow,

 

two red eyes draw continually out of sight.

 

On and on, the pitiful spear of Bill’s headlamps

 

pricks the monster’s flank. 

 

Where have you been, it says.



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