Philip Memmer is the author of three books of poems: Lucifer: A Hagiography (Lost Horse Press, 2009), winner of the 2008 Idaho Prize for Poetry; Threat of Pleasure (Word Press, 2008), winner of the 2008 Adirondack Literary Award for Poetry; and Sweetheart, Baby, Darling (Word Press, 2004). His poems have appeared in such journals as Poetry, Poetry Northwest, and Mid-American Review, and in several anthologies. He lives in Deansboro, New York, and directs the YMCA's Downtown Writer's Center in Syracuse.

 

we built a house. In the house

you loved for its newness

 

we hung old photographs—

the two of us

 

toasting at forgotten parties,

kissing on the lips

 

of distant canyons.

To these, time brought dust

 

and we neglect, and later

the careless hands

 

of children, their affection for us

breaking the glass

 

and driving the shards

through our faces—the faces

 

of children, it seems,

now that I’ve come to love

 

emptiness, and can imagine

without horror

 

the peace of the ground of the field,

who can recall exactly

 

what it was I drank

too much of, but not

 

the last name of the girl

who stands between us,

 

arms round our creased waists,

though the party

 

must have been hers

and the half of her smile untorn

 

seems still to love us.

 

 

 

 

You there, all tangled up

in the bedside web of twine—

 

what do you want with me?

Or were you mine already

 

and trying to leave?

I almost know enough about dreams

 

to read your night-black eyes,

but even considering everything

 

your kind has done to me,

how could I leave you here,

 

breaking your dusty wings

against the wall?

 

I’m no one’s idea of light,

not even yours, but try to remember

 

who shook you loose,

though his closet was full

 

of dark wool clothes,

though his only desire was to sleep.