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Omnibus Literary Magazine
Michael Igoe
Choice of Routine
After I rise from my sleep,
I drown in a state of grace.
Without any preferences
for who holds the power.
They are players onstage
who determine the days
even after the days fade.
I refuse to understand
I can't think this way.
It seemed offhanded
and high and mighty,
just a matter of pride,
to keep an open mind.
You might think twice,
bathed in the limelight
Reservoirs
The things we knew already
have origins in a bare space
we've tried to leave behind.
We looked to replace them,
asking for a second chance.
Murmurs in the afternoon,
shaped by the mainstream
scarred from the mainline.
We thought it was coming to us
if we could gain the upper hand.
A Rare Glimpse
I.
We're certainly lucky
for Dads who helped
as best as they could.
Mine won a good conduct medal
And your dad won a purple heart.
Don't be aghast when I point out,
their nature lies in their morality.
What a difference a day makes
like the days of our enlistment
in the time we spent in Toledo.
We watched sunrise
most cloudless days,
we watched sunsets
if skies were overcast.
What a difference a day makes:
when you joined in the fighting
in the times we spent in Toledo.
It must have been a stroke of luck,
that you were as sinuous as a tiger.
II.
I've tried pointing out
a familiar tract of land
shielded by breakwater.
Where you were menaced
during a time of mourning.
It's something to be expected
in a hand to mouth existence.
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