Flush Left | Cammy Thomas | 01 30 23

Spectators after Rilke The surrounding spectators have us badly paired, too much of a calculation. Suddenly we are falsely colored in metallic silk under heavy weights, confused in our windowed skin. We chase a cloud of tears. Some of the spectators already lie in the graveyard, yet they stare at this suburban sky. We are […]

What Rough Beast | 10 11 20 | Cammy Thomas

Cammy ThomasWithout Outside rain is banging the skylightsoutside are beauty and contagion the news says the earth has stopped shakingsince all our machines have stilled across the street the fieldblooms with scilla deep deep blue I type with raw clean fingersand think of my absent children how can I live without themhow can they live […]

What Rough Beast | 10 10 20 | Cammy Thomas

Cammy ThomasChilling KillsI’m a killer from my living roomamong my lovely things a killer swimmingin a cool pooltrying not to hurt anyone under my own tall trees a killereverything about me kills even in my everydayshoes even in my cool pool in my living roomI take it as a givennothing wicked comes mowers mowingdust vacuumed […]

What Rough Beast | 10 09 20 | Cammy Thomas

Cammy ThomasRiddles What blocks breathing to protect breath?What leaves a three-day residue on a table?When do uncounted debts become unpayable?When am I close enough to death? How does fear attach itself to my hands, my feet?Why is the doctor’s office more dangerous than home?How is heroism staying indoors alone?When do airplanes become obsolete? When do […]

Poems in the Aftermath edited by Michael Broder

Poems in the Aftermath began as an online project of Indolent Books. The collection includes 73 poems by 73 different poets posted over the 73 days from November 9, 2016 (the day after Election Day) to January 20, 2017 (Inauguration Day). Because these poems were written during the immediate post-election transition period, they reflect the […]

Transition Poem 59 @ Jan. 6, 2017

Cammy Thomas November 1968 —a reflection for November 2016 My Classics teacher at Boston University came to class wearing a black armband. Nixon had won, Nixon the war-monger, the racist, the liar, had won. The fear had started sooner, with JFK’s death, Jackie’s pink, blood-stained suit, the caisson and the riderless horse. In Georgia, Lester […]