Friday, April 15, 2011

Who Waits, Who Runs by Robin Stout

  Daido Moriyama, Stray Dog, Misawa, Aomori, 1971  

Robin Stout / Who Waits Who Runs

You say
I am too happy
to be a poet.

You, you ubiquitous
Floating in and out,
in and out
of my poems
like clouds in a blue,
blue sky.

You say
my pain
is more frightened
lamb than wounded

That I am low
on ink.

And, besides
I don’t dress

That’s what you know.

I am the guy on Atlantic
Avenue with apricot
hair.  I am
the swollen
river, the fifteen-
dollar sandwich.

I am the woman
in head-to-toe
black on a coral
I am the car
in traffic.

I am the dog
who waits
who runs up
behind you
and sinks
yellow teeth
into the meatiest
part of your

(c) Robin Stout 2011


Tim McFarlane said...

Ooh, nice piece. Tell Robin that I approve!

Paul Behnke said...

Thanks Tim, I will!

emily bell said...

That IS Robin. How can I read more of her work? Has she got a site?

ariele @ brooklyn to west said...

This is so moving. The imagery is incredible.

Paul Behnke said...

Yes, I'm married to a talented writer!

Paul Behnke said...

And I love Moriyama's photographs!!!