Two Poems

Sam Magavern

Vodka and Cranberry Juice

But I don't think that Li Po will venture
      over Plum Mountain, today, with
Poems in his silk sack.
                               He has not felt
Well, of late. And already, it seems
Like 1300 years, or more, since we
Sat at Ernie's Corner Bar, on 7th St.,
Shades drawn, at 4:00 p.m. or so,
Whispering out poems about geese.

***

After the Carnival is Over

And the camels were sent back.
And the litter still remains.
The prize pig has been slaughtered.
Spangles from baton-twirling girls
          lie like stars on the asphalt.
It's no one's fault; but

The Bulgarian strong man weeps
       because he can't lift my dreams.
They cling to the ludicrous earth.

Sam Magavern teaches at the University at Buffalo Law School. His poems have appeared in many magazines, including Poetry, The Paris Review, The Partisan Review and The Antioch Review. His non-fiction book, Primo Levi's Universe, was published this year by Palgrave Macmillan.

Return