Author Archives: jonwolston

Smiling in May light yellow as her umbrella: a nameless beauty.

In a poem, Jon? What’s wrong with you? You know, I’ve been asking myself that very question, giving my harness bells a shake like Robert Frost’s horse, wondering if there is some mistake. That summer it was far easier to … Continue reading →

I     The climb up lasts forever. Skis slung on our backs we kick steps up six hundred feet in a proud laborioso, filled with easy chatter under noon’s blue dome. II     The descent begins– a placid three-turn glissando, skis sliding … Continue reading →

Newcomers enter. Wailing tots sound off downstairs. Then, a suckling noise.

Mere doormen last week, my fleets of mercenaries wear plastic sandals. Chits for house and car await you in Tripoli— name your sons Muammar.

That Stanley was born in Germany is killing me and my brother. We double over while Mom hoses manure out of her woody.

Leaping Black Zeta won’t learn to sit. Feral, she slashes at cuffs and sleeves, merciless in her bold advances. Some day her rough tongue will lap my face with unabashed tenderness. Until then I will live on acorns in a … Continue reading →

All wiry bat ears fully grown at sixteen pounds she paws the wet clay.

What does this woman know that lights up the curves of her face that way, like piecrust right out of the oven, as if she just hit your best red-devil fastball clean out of the park before you even threw … Continue reading →

Scraping off our cars she tells me a dream about love with a long gestation period. No sooner are the windows clear than they ice up again. As my hood fringe whitens I launch into “Ramparts” in James Wright’s gravelly … Continue reading →