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Coronas by the Fireside

October 01, 2018 in Poetry

by Gus Goldberg

Coronas

Why do I still feel lonely for you

And reminisce about your past

As I'm crowded with bodies breathing

In a too warm room to saturate the dry air

It’s not cool to think of a love lost

As singers sing of lost love

And friends sip Coronas

In this moody aura set by the long haired boy in yellow boots

But I still think you would hate this music

And I would love to listen to it with you

Fireside

Sweat drips like molasses

And mosquitoes coagulate

On bare calves

As we sit around

a burnt out fire

And don’t look

At the moment

we rest in

Complaining about bugs

And saying what

we will change

Next time

On a Street Corner

On a street

corner

Several hours after

dark

Visible from her

door

A young woman waits

Her hair pulled

up

Disheveled

A lamp stands

above

A fight separated

them

And she waits

For her love

to fight

For her and

she will yield

easy

But he isn’t

charming

At home scrubbing

dishes

disheveled

But he is her

love

And she waits

Second Floor Views I

Conversation drools under

Speckled laughter in tight

Corridors of graphite and rubber

Making standing silent necessary

Second Floor Views II

A white room with white chunks ripped out

Tangible emptiness leaking in as his lens

Tries to adjust to the dark space, fails

Iris lets his brain rest in the remaining white

The thin plastic gifts, the smell of gardenias

And he breaths for a moment,

Two

And the floor glows phosphorescent

As he turns towards the curtain

Dark Eyes

Sweet girl with the dark eyes 

You’ve captured many boys 

With a single wine tinted smirk 

But have been burnt too many times 

 

And have burnt some I love 

But I know you fear hurt 

The hard conversation after a kiss 

The shattered friendship unable to be swept up 

 

But I’m proud of your honest   

knife to  the  ribs 

And  I’m  proud  of  your  hopeful   

Dissatisfaction  with  the  past 

 

And  I  hope  that  you  find  that   

You  are  lovely,  worthy 

As  you  stand  miles  away 

From  anyone 

 
 
 
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Gus Goldberg doesn’t know how to write

a thing to sound interesting.

He lives in downtown Billings

and studies a lot and reads a lot

and works some

and

only drinks

good coffee.

He believes cats are easier pets

than dogs.

He likes living in downtown Billings.

His wife is hotter than he is and he’s

ok with that.

Poetry is helpful.

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