Jane Adam
Three Poems


Good Morning Pillar

People passing in the street:
I keep a ghost to throw back at each one.
Lion march—snow & more snow.
Lights are red—luck has changed—there’s
a shop window full of artificial limbs
ripe for the transformation.



Didn’t

develop a way to resist the
double dip waffle cone of instant gratification;
did put up with bullshit misery if it
          looked like it might pay
dividends:
double the
drunkenness,
dinner spoiled,
door like a turning page.



Do This

Disregard what illusion?
Dark & rainy
day flames like fire.
Don’t want it charred, though...
Do this:  it feels shitty but
          at the same time
          so wonderful

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