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The ennui of 26 years and a little bit of voyeurism? Maybe of longing?

Love poetry from my 20s

Maybe the most accurate description of how my brain works?

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.

I guess I used to romanticize smoking French cigarettes.

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

©1999 Chris Abraham