Sleep by Gary Grossman

isn't easy, the white slap
of fear hits just when I
slide from dusk into night.

I was 12, Mom unwakable.
Pills strewn across furrowed
sheets, black buds amidst the dunes.

Now, falling asleep has the
coppery taste of oncoming
headlights, closing in my lane.

I flinch

and hold the covers tight.

Gary Grossman is Professor of Animal Ecology at the University of Georgia. His poems have appeared in 23 reviews -- most recently -- Verse-Virtual, Poetry Life and Times, Trouvaille Review, Poetry Superhighway and Last Stanza Poetry Review. His bio can be found at www.garygrossman.net and work at https://garydavidgrossman.medium.com/.

Stealing a Line from Proust by Gary Grossman

The Silver haired man on my
Right asked “Where and when were

You Happiest”? “Right here, right
Now”, I replied. Beckoning

The barmaid to bring us both beers.
While sweat ran down the gutter

Of my arm in this Ensenada
Cantina, ablaze with cumin

And ajo. I smiled and gazed
Across a Tarot of compadres,

Plenty of cups, but no swords or
Wands, unless you’re a magician,

Amigo, or a physicist.
Both manipulating the

Ether and its bodies of
Unseen flammable forms.

Happiness is doing what you
Want, when you want it, and

That is the why, here and now
Of this beer, tangible hops,

Malt, and rime-glazed mug.

Gary Grossman is Professor of Animal Ecology at the University of Georgia. His poems have appeared in 20 reviews -- in 2021 -- Verse-Virtual, Poetry Life and Times, Trouvaille and Last Stanza Poetry Review. Gary's bio can be found at www.garygrossman.net and work at https://garydavidgrossman.medium.com/.