Poems by Jonathan Swerdlick

[from the August, 1999, workshop:]

*coming in late, again

like so many english classes
more to the point, chemistry

I walk into the middle;
that sign-post on the sidewalk
that I didn't see because I was turned
talking to the past

* * * *

*regarding the raspberry or flavor/texture

they are
are they? comparable/inspearable

how can I reconcile ambrosia-ish delight
w/ beetle under bare foot disgust,
all in one bite?