Leonard Kress Poems

She told me she bathed her Pomeranians,
Today, all three, one at a time,
The unbathed hiding behind the couch,
Terrified. And once bathed, gambolling
...

The whole neighbourhood aghast—to find the tour
Bus of Bill Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys
Parked in our street, banjos, mandolins, and fiddles
Percolating before dawn, creeping across kempt lawns,
...

Picasso said to Braque, I see a squirrel
in your painting, there among the table top
items—tobacco pouch, pipe, etc. No,
said Braque, until he looked again;
...

A blinding locust storm in southern Illinois.
the kids who pick me up stole this Ford,
drinking and joyriding, reveling toward
the coast. And when they stop to let me pry
...

Ninety miles- it takes from dawn to dusk,
but I am in no hurry. Dangling my feet
over the boxcar's edge, sprawled in grit
and grime, my father, that great solar disk,
...

The sputtering car breaks down. They always do,
though rarely on this red clay desert floor
where coyotes pace the mesas, ready to pursue
a midnight snack. I stay inside and lock the door.
...

They eat and sleep and bathe in a crazed mansion,
entire lives one uninterrupted rehearsal,
under the arched flexed foot of their German
master, Helmut, who brought with him all
...

All that singing and all that grand passion
was not for her, oh no, let's be quite honest,
no, not to praise her beauty or the rest
of her fine package (just listen, calm down) ,
...

Springtime: violent odors of musk, the scent
of tender temala sprouts and mango blossoms
gripped by vernal creepers. Lord Krishna comes
alone upon the girls, husbands absent,
...

Why does everything come back to fish?
The time of year when the Maumee River
is flush with human jetties, casters, waist-deep
in the chill, arms like pistons, their manic Spring quest
...