Wednesday, October 8, 2008

All those choices by George Vance

After Pasold/Regier’s Now, & Idling…

In a clammy bar smelling of horseraces across from a man
nothing on his hands maybe time in his somehow woke-up air
can’t put my finger on those empty hands
an undetermined quality worth staking something on
can’t really
my thumb upon a bright bet
another ghost to pin down simply

hand my thumbs upon

1 comment:

Jennifer K Dick said...

Awesome poem, George. you have been missed here on Rewords, and i so look forward to reading more of your poems here as they emerge.

In this one, I really enjoyed the way you fluctuated between the long and very short line. The language is tight, and evocative. I look forward to revisiting it often, as I have done over the past week.

Jen D