I was in Chicago Saturday night
but saw nothing of you anywhere.
Now I'm on layover
at a podium, playing Lear
in a PowerPoint pageant
on morale. The south wind,
north wind, east west all whisper
amongst themselves. I am a pal
to the world. I defended my thesis
on the value of myth
in a valley between two hills for
three hydrangeas, a black cat,
and two hundred forty two deaf hecklers.
Our kind is a buffalo in the buffalo dusk.
With my last Lincoln face, I bought a kiosk
on Lake Michigan where hardhats
line the shore and headlamps illuminate
a lock box gurgling in the late night sea-wash:
'My people are gray
and I wonder where they are going.'
Patrick Gaughan’s poems and writings have been featured in The Brooklyn Rail, PEN America, BOMBlog, and others. With Avram Kline, he curates Peopleherd’s Readings at Milk&Roses in Brooklyn.