Lawrence Beck Poems
|6.||Reconciling The Internal And External||4/15/2016|
|7.||Was A Cowboy||4/17/2016|
|11.||Emily And Me||4/21/2016|
|12.||A Garden Of Earthly Delights||4/24/2016|
|13.||The Drowned Man||4/25/2016|
|14.||Facing A Blank Screen||4/26/2016|
|18.||On A Spring Morning||5/3/2016|
|25.||Samsa And Delilah||5/13/2016|
|26.||Queen Anne Hill||5/15/2016|
|28.||Good News, Citizen -new-||5/20/2016|
|31.||Plantation Nation -new-||5/24/2016|
|32.||Northwest Passage -new-||5/25/2016|
|33.||Sounds Like... -new-||5/25/2016|
|34.||On Something Like My 22,885th Day Of Life -new-||5/31/2016|
|35.||You Reap What You Sow -new-||5/31/2016|
|37.||Perhaps I'm Mistaken||3/16/2016|
|38.||Saint Patrick's Day In West Omaha||3/17/2016|
John's up. I see the light in his kitchen.
He'll put on his suit, and drive to his office
To balance the books of some part of his
Firm. He'll be drinking coffee and going
To meetings, talking to people about TV
Shows and the basketball tournament,
Children in sports. He'll come back this
Evening, weary, not tired. He'll probably
Wave while he's using his grill, and he'll
Go to bed knowing that he's an accountant.
That's what he does. That's who he is,
He takes comfort from knowing these things.
I have the day off. I'll spend it at home, ...
You may laugh. It is a cheesy set,
A castle made of styrofoam, a paper
Gate across a plywood drawbridge,
And the king inside, who struts. How
Grandly he proclaims his glory,
Dressed in cotton, dyed to seem to be
Brocade. The man's not sane. There's
Nothing to him or the stage which
Corresponds to what is real.