Text

Peter Marcus
 
http://www.ccnow.com/cgi-local/cart.cgi?boooookz_5822_http://www.pleasureboatstudio.com/Books/Catalog.html

And here's his title poem, to give you a flavor of the book:


Dark Square



We all die dreaming something of this world:


its eggs, dust, feathers,

and its body of bread.


             On moonless nights

the whole house sways

with sleep.


            At dawn, a marlin arcs and wavers

toward the Mexican sun.


Murmuring children pass

through the graveyard gates, carrying little pines.