The Connoisseur of Canoes

artwork: ralph murre

The Connoisseur of Canoes 

by Jimmy Pappas

Nursing a drink in my right

hand, I enter the boathouse

and wonder how long I can

pretend to be sipping the few

drops I have left. The group

forms a circle shoulder to

shoulder in my peripheral

vision. Occasionally, someone

glances my way and turns

back quickly to avoid eye

contact, while I stop at a boat

and touch the varnish with

one finger from my left hand.

I pretend to be a connoisseur

of canoes, an aficionado of

aquatic vehicles, all the while

wishing the ice in my glass

would melt faster so I could

take another sip. Until it does,

I stare at my reflection and

wonder if people had it wrong

about Narcissus, that he

didn’t fall in love with

himself, just out of love

with the rest of the world.

~ previously published in Atticus Review

Henry's Last Dream Song

artwork: ralph murre

Henry's Last Dream Song

   (In Honor of John Berryman)

by Jimmy Pappas

Suicides always try to cheat death

by dying: Sylvia chose the warm oven

despite the different buzz

in her ear, the tingling sensation of life's breath

trying to reach the dulled mind. Everyone

followed in rapid succession,

leaving poor Henry at the end of the race,

wondering if his turn would ever come

& shouting 'Wait for me!'

So Henry, hot shit, him no fool,

him leave his Inner Resources all ova da place

for da cops to pick up.

And what I want to know is what went on

in Henry's mind as he fell like a man

in an unstoppable dream

clutches blankets struggling hard to yell.

Tell me, Mr. Bones, was he surprised

by the loudness of his scream?

~ previously published in Goodreads and

    subsequently in Dead Snakes