For the city I haunted for about 14 years, from Poem-A-Day today on Poets.org. My sister and her family still live there and head back home today; they retreat to the sea each night. The rest of the poem may be found here:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/jungle
from The Jungle / by Megan Fernandes
In midsummer, in Los Angeles,
the night is fractured
with mountains, grilling ink
into the blue thaw.
Yes, it’s from Bright Wings.
from Rara Avis / by Brendan Constantine
When interviewed, the bird watchers gave
quick, birdlike answers.
This is from her book, Crown of Weeds, bought, possibly, on Dubuque Street, at Prairie Lights. Or, that’s the bookmark that was in it when I bought it.
from Crown of Weeds / by Amy Gerstler
Much of me is dead, but more of me
is stronger. I still consume the world
with my eyes
For my west-coast English-comp professor, one who teaches us, in many ways, to remember to love form, and an Angelino with warm memories of Vermont’s frozen embankments.
from Joseph / by Timothy Steele
Vague winds cross, streamingly, its face,
Remote and icy and antique,
And to its light I whisper, Speak.
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