April 2017
After teaching at a college in South Florida for thirty years, I retired, and my wife and I have traveled around the country, and moved twice in the past two years. Now that we are settled, we are looking forward to exploring our new city and making new friends. Some of my poems have appeared recently in such journals as The Broken Plate, The Comstock Review, Exit 7, The Lake, and Third Wednesday. Amsterdam Press published a chapbook of my poems entitled The Arboriculturist in 2010. Check out my author's page on Facebook or go to my blog at http://www.michaelminassian.com.
The Imaginary House
In the imaginary house I have built for you,
the darkness that comes at sundown,
is at a separate angle from the sky above
but in this space between wanting
and knowing, a slant of light escapes
like a moan behind a door without a key,
without a mouth or eyes to see;
each room like a silent gesture;
each gesture like a mute invitation,
but when I look behind the curtain
& see you approaching from across the street
at every step you appear to recede from view,
pretending that I am not watching for a sign,
as if we could meet again for the first time.
previously published in The Comstock Review 2014
Snapshots of Pain
I can only blame my lack of caution,
not understanding that your attention
wounded my own friend more than me;
now I see his troubled face every time
we meet, superimposed on yours
like some Photoshop experiment:
three snapshots of pain contained
in a glass cage I could not crack,
the bail too high to let me escape
this prison; I watched you turn
the key, locking my friend out
the moment he let down his guard;
as soon as I could, I climbed over these walls,
too late to save the rest, carrying grief with my fall.
© 2017 Michael Minassian
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