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Two Poems Eric TorgersenCome Back Prodigal thoughts long gone from your head come back. You cling to present loves as old desires Those with whom you bargained, plotted, wrestled, Those who never knew how much they mattered, The falsest, truest, kindest, cruelest, maddest All the brilliantly improvised explosive The Year of Many Small Cuts, the years of learning Faceless figures hovering in mist Don't look, Eric look don't listen listen *** Eric The surface is calm, but we all know what's below it, Eric. That air of charming helplessness was fine The men in cheap dark suits are at the door. Somehow you caught the ball, and everyone's watching. You've had a drink and a bit of rest in the shade— Every fabric fades in summer sun, The car careens along and the brakes are shot— You of so little faith in yourself as a man,
Eric Torgersen's ghazals are from a collection to be called In Which We See Our Selves: American Ghazals. Others have appeared, or will, in New Ohio Review, New Letters, 32 Poems, Zone 3, Pleiades, Iron Horse Literary Review, Solo Novo, Cafe Review, Third Wednesday and The Ghazal Page. A collection of non-ghazals, Heart. Wood. , will be published in 2012 by Word Press. In Posse: Potentially, might be . . .
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