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Poetry Month: Day Twenty-Two

Another poem previously shared with my youngest brother  and now shared with you-  via Poetry Foundation's poetry app.






Stephen Dunn




In love, his grammar grew


rich with intensifiers, and adverbs fell


madly from the sky like pheasants


for the peasantry, and he, as sated


as they were, lolled under shade trees


until roused by moonlight


and the beautiful fraternal twins


and and but. Oh that was when


he knew he couldn’t resist


a conjunction of any kind.


One said accumulate, the other


was a doubter who loved the wind


and the mind that cleans up after it.


                                           For love


he wanted to break all the rules,


light a candle behind a sentence


named Sheila, always running on


and wishing to be stopped


by the hard button of a period.


Sometimes, in desperation, he’d look


toward a mannequin or a window dresser


with a penchant for parsing.


But mostly he wanted you, Sheila,


and the adjectives that could precede


and change you: bluesy, fly-by-night,


queen of all that is and might be.