Tony Hoagland

November 28, 2016 Hoagland Tony



I too have my stack
hidden in a cranny.

Photos from my time
on the romantic equator.

I don’t seem to ever
get around to throwing it out,

–the longing, I mean,
I mean longing, I mean

longing I mean longing,

–like the appendix,
an organ in the body

which they tell you
you can live without–

how it still burns and hums
on cloudy days.

I am myself you know
held together in the dark

with a brittle rubber-band,
and these old love letters

for me are like
those plane tickets to Brazil

kept by the embezzler
in his bottommost desk drawer,

someplace where,
in an emergency,

when he is tired or frightened

he can bury his face
and inhale.

Tony Hoagland’s newest collections of poems are Recent Changes in the Vernacular (Tres Chicas Press, 2017) and Priest Turned Therapist