March 2026
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People like me wait.People like me let friends drift away.People like me don’t answer her handwritten letter.When it feels like crossing someone else’s line people like me start to say goodnight with our inside voice until people like me stop hearing it at all. People like me get used to the empty space of a…
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It is the time of the day when the breeze turns the setting sun into a lanternthat lights the shadows below. You listen to the leaves echoanother day into your story and smile: if you are luckythere will be a tomorrow, the breeze will turn the setting sun into a lanternthat lights the rustling of…
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You meet at Cafe 23 in Marchspend some Sundays wearing the same sheet, plan a trip to Montreal for the fall. You don’t plan to hope you won’t see the paper bag with her rolled up black coat and a book of erogenous zones in Spanish you leave outside your door in the morningwhen the…
Jason Edward Coombs - Poet 