Three Poems by Steven Grant

Home Invasion

A memory knock

ed on my door last

night. It pushed its

way in before I had

a chance to send it

on its way. It look

ed a little like I rem

ember you, when it

asked “how’ve you

been?” The quest

ion caught me off

guard; having fail

ed to take inventory

for some time. I con

sulted with my re

grets and sent a no

te to days gone by,

but I couldn’t for

the life of me fig

ure out why it matt

ered to a lonely me

mory seeking she

lter from the sum

mer evening heat.

Koko the Gorilla

“Darn darn floor bad bite; trouble trouble”

Is it a sign of things to come,

or has the time come for me to sign?

I stopped grunting long enough

to hear the door close.

What was it you said to me

on your way out?

You spoke to me in English,

French and Spanish at least that’s what

it looked like when I read your lips.

I was mute for far too long

but you only ever learned one sign.

I guess I’ll just have to ride

out this little quake alone

and hope my vocabulary

improves over time.

Behavior Modification

I want to kiss a dangerous girl under the harsh lights
of Broadway without so much as a “nice to meet you”

or “thanks for the dance”. I'd like to walk through

the south Bronx at midnight counting my money

with un-calloused fingers and an “I dare you” smirk.

I think I will dangle my feet off the platform at 59th & Lex

while the ground shakes from the overdue six train.
I want to taste the bitter sweet drip of coke as it slides down

the back of my throat with a rush of elation. I'll flip off cabs

and piss on a cop car in the middle of Times Square.

I want to drink scotch for breakfast, sleep until noon,

and make love with strangers three or four at a time.

I’ll drive into the night at a hundred miles per hour

with my headlights off, play chicken with all my regrets

and steer with purpose to destinations as yet unknown,


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