Poetry from Patrick Sweeney

going to the church of the wind
in the tops of the trees


        *


she comes to the window for the red fox at dusk


        *


he told himself not to stare at the newborn violets


        *


in the same photo,
the pacing cheetah and her grandfather's cane 


        *


he gave no reason for wanting to soak his feet in the Lower Vistula


        *


when they tell you to dye your hair
and change the locks


        *


Elvis never borrowed my brother's comb,
but everybody loved the lie


        *


it was Frankie's job to doctor up the coffee
for the grumpy saints


        *


the world going back to ignoring the green forsythia


        *


my destiny is already on its third cup of coffee


        *


"the objective correlative"
must include the worn gray socks of Pete Maravich


        *


throwing a chunk of coal for a touchdown in Jim Thorpe, PA


        *


though he makes room,
the regulars on the city bus would rather stand


        *



Patrick Sweeney is a short form poet and devotee of the public library.




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