Friday, April 22, 2016


J O H N     G O D F R E Y
photo Ted Roeder

Everything Beautiful

Buick, big old boat, purrs

Backs into the square of moonlight

where the path is worn

Notice you must the pang

in the air

                 You hear

a little of bells, a little of hypnosis

I have traced all this to my body

Everything beautiful, and everything

that ever goes wrong

One giant light of green

and one of gold, inject the glow

chosen sky by the city

Tiny Gold Dress

Days so fleet you have to've

seen unruly ones

I do all the time

Someone I soon trust

puts your hand in mine

Just what I'm looking for

Start with the body

and search me

Won't find me sleeping

I dig my six feet

and you stand there in

your tiny gold dress

Can't believe my eyes

Your smile knows

Your ever-so-slight lisp

Ahead of me in the

opposite direction

Big man alerts me

I shed little bits

of chivalry

I caress like one bereaved

Forethought and hindsight

in the flesh

Peanut shells under bed

Lamp nearby of

fire and roses

Ribbons of smoke sketch

momentarily an orchid

Pool Cake

When she sleeps on the floor

When the umbrella blows

into her hand

The whole landslide is missing

She treats me like a conversion

I am a probability

Eclipses her in sheets of snow

How many emotions on

the tines of a fork

Her particular disguise for dust

The haves are equidistant in time

You could say everything is minus that

To those who waken stealthily

Sew up the hat real neat

Frost ascends the blade


Muddy plastic spoon

Barefoot on eolas

First they nab the tramp

Words sort and sink

Ash glitters on her collar

Jumpseat vapor smell

She interrupts herself

I too blow smoke

Can't hardly overhear

Farewells then walk alone

Night briefly unwraps

Inevitable hallways



the best you can-can

Time hangs in braids

There is room for

that hip in the

blazing gold drum

Do not hasten

The crosswalk aglow

Maybe learn nothing

Signature footsteps

I know what to do

with the wrong dream


The City Keeps
Wave Books, 2016