Peter Chapman Poetry


i will be patient with you
but only so far as the stars go

you may not have me if
i can't have me; i'll see to it
as stars roll their points
over the roof no one can

i will do this madly
as heaven moves out of the way
and the stars stop, at a loss
to learn their progress
from gazers squinting up
through old science

i'll be patient with you because
you are patient with me

i'll find what i need to get everything
ready for the low and common

i'll speak the prayers for them
we others push out to those surly Orions

but i can't stop here, not
until the phone rings and rings
and my poems are everywhere,
carved into trees in pennsylvania,
going by on buses, seen flowing
on ribbons from fine straw hats

and stars lie in the road,
blue and muddy,
like my best oath