Three poems by Nicholas Goodly

Cabin Named Laura

I bring my hands to a splintered piano  

feed the music its own teeth

Erroll Garner kneads the air

pretending to sleep 

soundless black bear

picking the locks 

two boys run in circles

around a pile of sticks

branches in their misty hands

little metaphors in a field

they are constructing a tower

or breaking it down

I wait a day


nothing deserves love

especially the way I’ve loved it

Mail-Order Bride: Judy

His human-sized wooden package waited for him

in the empty corner of his loft.

She’s arrived! in all her glory,

packed in polystyrene peanuts!

Her profile:

How exciting you are concerned about me. I am l