January 2017
Poetry is a lonely business, but I have a friend who plays guitar, and when I play bass with him, I find community. My most recent book is In This Place: Selected Poems 1982-2013 and I've had recent poems in Hummingbird, Atticus Review, Hamilton Stone Review, and other literary magazines. I'm honored to serve as managing editor of the Lorine Niedecker Monograph Series, What Region?. I blog as The Middlewesterner (www.middlewesterner.com), and have put up at least five little poems a week since mid-2008.
Bag of Sorrows
Bag of sorrows
I cannot carry
any more. Lift,
O lord, this
loneliness. Let
all things fly
which have wings
and let the light
find shelter.
That Which Lingers
That which lingers longest
fades at last. Evening comes
like a well-muscled roan
chased by darkness. We lose
our sense of end and of
beginning. We lose hope
that tomorrow will be
better. Sleep follows and
we dream the horsemen of
a lost apocalypse.
As it was written, so
it shall be once again.
Another Year
Nothing new
under the sun.
The universe
is still expanding.
I listen to the
Cistercians singing
the old chants
that will save us.
Wisdom
Water knows the way.
Crow
Whatever he wants
crow owes us nothing.
That's how he gets by.
We could learn from him
if we weren't too proud
to eat his carrion.
If we weren't afraid
to leave our shadows
where darkness takes them.
©2016 Tom Montag
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