My heart is sick and foul, a chest of anguished cries.
My heart attack explodes, arrest of anguished cries.
Clinicians think I’m Job; they jab and prod my veins.
Pathology calls for a test of anguished cries.
They check my pulse and beats with meters stupidly.
My naked heart unrobes, undressed of anguished cries.
A sphygnomameter can’t sound my misery;
I blame my rose divine, caressed of anguished cries.
Larissa’s rose is sick and is consuming me;
Cardiomyopathy, my fest of anguished cries.
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- Cover of my novel, Patient Women!
- Christmas Star by Joseph Brodsky translated by L...
- THE GYM (after "The Raven")
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- Please join me for a reading and talk in Brooklyn
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- Cardiac (Ghazal)
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