What Rough Beast | Poem for January 29, 2020

David Groff
First Warm Night

The noises insinuate
the urban window
and populate our bed—

low hums like oceans
too far to see,
humans or tires,

sirens dying.
Shrieks too,
soon a scream

we can’t decipher.
Joy or terror.
Side by side we lie

like little gods
immune to most disasters,
trying to have sex

because it’s spring and time,
two hawks along a cornice
athwart their tilting nest.

David Groff is the author of Clay (Trio House Press, 2013), chosen by Michael Waters for the Louise Bogan Award. His book Theory of Devolution (University of Illinois Press, 2002) was selected by Mark Doty for the National Poetry Series. He co-edited two anthologies: with Jim Elledge, the Lambda-winning Who’s Yer Daddy?: Gay Writers Celebrate Their Mentors and Forerunners (University of Wisconsin Press, 2012); and with Philip Clark, Persistent Voices: Poetry by Writers Lost to AIDS (Alyson Books, 2010). His poems have recently appeared on the Best American Poetry blog, in Great River Review, and Prairie Schooner, and at Poem-a-Day (from the Academy of American Poets), as well as in the anthology The Manifesto Project (University of Akron Press, 2017), edited by Rebecca Hazelton and Alan Michael Parker. An independent book editor, he teaches in the MFA program at the City College of New York.

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