Thomas Fink


YINGLISH STROPHES 20


Choir downtown of screeches

doom credit. Loans, was
loans with not even
muscle a few. The

flab full. We should
believe at the lice
washed out? Those unscruples
not down enough the
toilet—vicious men. Yesterday

was a nice movie: harvest
nineties of microscope chips. To
remember can’t your treasury refurbish
nothing. Is second Roosevelt the
Franklin we gaining? Painful skinny—
on meals economized. Black now
even—half. To penicillin: transparencies.


NEXT THING YOU KNOW


trees
are talking
to Arby.
He’s inclined, but
the air is

clogged. “Be as
a tree or a
hill with a will,”
the bed in the

head said. “I be
the shirt here; don’t buck
me. Do it, do it,

do it. Be or see.”
Is bread inside us? Chance

dances, hair against the wall.


Thomas Fink is the author five books of poetry, most recently Clarity and Other Poems (Marsh Hawk, 2008), as well as Autopsy Turvy(Meritage, 2010), a book of collaborative poetry with Maya Diablo Mason, and two books of criticism. His paintings hang in various collections.
 
 
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