Three Poems by Leonard Gontarek

Love Poem

I erase the penciled name on the front page

of the book.

I can still see the ghost image of the letters,

can trace the shape pressed into the paper.

Tell me again why you left me.



The last time I read this poem

publicly, I was drunk,

standing on a table,

and I went home

with the prettiest woman at the party.


Toward Fire

Could it have been twenty years ago the hearse

drove by filled with oranges?

Wind in trees as though they were catching fire.

Give me, you said, tonight, another night.

I gave you ice water. Rather, the ice from the water.


Filed under: Prose