Richard Jones

1953 - / American
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Why do poets write?My wife, a psychiatrist, sleeps / through my reading and writing in bed, / the half-whispered lines,
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The SpoonSome days I think I need nothing / more in life than a spoon. / With a spoon I can eat oatmeal,
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SacrificesAll winter the fire devoured everything -- / tear-stained elegies, old letters, diaries, dead flowers. / When April finally arrived,
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The DinerThe short-order cook and the dishwasher / argue the relative merits / of Rilke’s Elegies
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Cherries in the SnowMy mother never appeared in public / without lipstick. If we were going out, / I’d have to wait by the door until
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Rest StopIt’s so late I could cut my lights / and drive the next fifty miles / of empty interstate
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What Do You Do About Dry Periods In Your Writing?When the writing is going well, / I am a prince in a desert palace, / fountains flowing in the garden.
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The RoadI, too, would ease my old car to a stop / on the side of some country road / and count the stars or admire a sunset
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How Did You Meet Your Wife?Swimming the English Channel, / struggling to make it to Calais, / I swam into Laura halfway across.
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Sky Funeral?In a revered Tibetan tradition, / I read aloud to my father, / the dead are borne to mountains
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