To Box With Man

          –for Eric Alleman

He works at
the Record Exchange.   I didn’t
know this un­til I
saw him there. 

I knew him de­spite
his lost
play-off beard.   He did not
know me.

   He was not
friendly, this man of in­tent
ges­ture.

His voice:
   a thumb
   hold­ing your face
   to the wall. 

Outside
        you hear some­thing

   howl­ing.


I’m writ­ing po­ems about po­ets I’ve seen in Cleveland. They’re meant to be read in the read­ing styles of afore­men­tioned po­ets.

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