Two poems
by Vince O'Connor




She hangs kisses from my earlobes

sews our fingers together

with red wine thread

drinks coffee when I drink tea

and tea when I drink coffee.


She kisses the backs of my hands

with a warm mouthful of sunshine

holds me tight with ghost freckled arms

makes me cry with unbridled happiness.


I am drunk on this woman

dizzy from lips of ripe strawberry pie

who reminds me it isn’t

frozen February every day,

but sometimes it’s

a hot August night.



a black line




as age accumulates

it is the loss

of possibility that lacerates

my soul


old love

letters and

photographs recall the betrayal

of dreams long

ceded to adulthood


I stare at closed and

locked doors that

line the past


and the scarcity

of those left waiting

to be opened

as I walk towards

the vanishing point



a black line

More poetry from Winamop

Copyright reserved. Please do not reproduce without consent.