Two Poems

Mike White

Love Poem

The way people get killed by the Mob
that is how we love.

It is the late night pick-up
and then the long slow drive in the country.

It is my head lying across your torso
in the baroque interior of a black sedan.

It is the beautiful and accidental shape we make
after years in the soft swale of the riverbed.

It is never being discovered.
Not by half.


Second Acts

The handcuffed starlet
performing an awkward
backward self-embrace.

The social critic gesticulating
in a public library bathroom stall.
What does this say about us?

The glassy-eyed cyclist-turned-
analyst recalling how in the Pyrenees
he could always dream away his legs.

The swing vote in the jury box
itching for forty years
in the place a landmine dispatched.

Mike White is originally from Montreal and now makes his home in Salt Lake City. He is a recent graduate of the doctoral program in Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Utah, and a former editor of Quarterly West. His poems have been published in journals including The New Republic, The Threepenny Review, The Iowa Review, The Antioch Review, Poetry, AGNI, and Verse.