tim brennan

 

 

Nora Knew

“How on God's earth can you possibly love a thing like me?”
(James Joyce letter to lover Nora - December 6, 1909)


He takes up a new position at the bottom
of the bed, utterly and comfortably
without pillow or blanket;
his countdown begins from seconds to sounds
that will draw her back from her small rebellion

He doesn’t mind her being so different
as to be distinctive until she wishes
for the impossible and blue and never
ending subtext of his tearing her apart
until she’s no longer whole



Tim J Brennan, an educator for thirty years, writes from southern Minnesota. His poems have appeared in Talking Stick, Whispering Shade, The Original Van Gogh's Ear and many other nice places. Brennan's plays have been produced in San Diego, Chicago, Bethesda, and Rochester MN.

 

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