Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits two literary magazines at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, MI. Poems of his have appeared recently in Antiphon, Curio Poetry, and Poydras Review. His chapbook In Stereo: Thirteen Sonnets and Some Fire Music is forthcoming from The Camel Saloon Books on Blog.They load the dead
Late Night Quatrains
The other world is also this one.
That beautiful student and I were lovers
in some other lifetime once (which neither of us foresees)
and/or will be
in a future one (which neither of us remembers).
“Snick” go the kitchen shears:
I’m naked in front of the mirror again.
(Gentle reader, just don’t dwell on this. I will for us.)
Feathers, chaff whiffle down my back.
Our greyhound Percy has breath
my wife thinks smells like fish.
Well, he was a fish inside his mother.
As we all were in ours.
Darkness more than half
the day. Prescriptions in the morning, wine at night. Us
not quite mummified,
but dozing like pharaohs.
Whenever we think it will end, there is more.
Thank God. No, thank quantum physics,
which has come full circle
with the fishy old religions.
River ice thickens, patience thins.
Smoke escapes the chimney. Jazz, the stereo.
We’re drifting toward martyrdom, guru-smooth and shining too