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In March only the smokers stood outside on the street where the party was allowed to spill.

I see that I wrote a lot of love poems when I was in my 20s

This poem is the end of a series of 1997-era poetry about seeing my friend Kathryn Medland after a few years. She was an amazing friend who I always adored for her love and lust for life. She honored me by featuring the work as part of her wedding reception's party favor and printed my words along with her other faves (e.e. cumming, etc.) and offering them to her wedding guests. It was high honor to me.

This is another of the poems that Kathryn Medland printed out to share with her wedding party. It was my biggest artistic honor to be there, like placemats, sitting at random table-settings. To be commingled and cojoined with the work of e.e. cummings.

The sky took the morning. Birds tore small holes in the quiet.

©1999 Chris Abraham

This poem was written in Norwich, UK, because I was in love with an English Rose.

On the 200th year of his death, Walt Whitman's most popularly famous poem.

I believe that Oatmeal is my first poem by Galway Kinnell and I think of it and him every time I cook up my Bob's Red Mill stone ground oats with milk and maple syrup.

I feel like this is my favorite poem and the only one that my buddy Mark Harrison knows almost by heart. ©1995 Chris Abraham