Archive for April, 1978


Tuesday, April 4th, 1978

My feelings walk inside me like a man with a hammer
The year of thirty must be by far the strangest one yet
Joe’s gone, his room says over his leavings,
and Rose and the house are harder to bear each day.
Soon the last shreds of her love will be torn
and the last of my security flown away

Its an ache to be there and yet I’ll probably always return
for Danny

I dreamed Bob the night before I met him
and when he arrived I felt prophesy on my shoulder.
And, tonight, when Rose told me
he wasn’t going to San Francisco
and that he’d been asking her out behind Nona’s back,
my dream came to reality.

“I’m seeing Rory”, she said, and I smiled…
I like Rory and he can’t make me insecure

Sorting photographs … cleaning the garage
talking, with control, to Bob and Nona,
eating Rose’s chicken and feeling this hammer.

I’m going to be alone again soon as I’ve not been
in a long long time
and on none of my fantasy girls can I rest
until this hammer has spent itself

I pray thee, thirty, move on.


04 apr 78

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —


Wednesday, April 5th, 1978

Living crazier day by day
sometimes I wonder if I’ll be swept away
could my fortunes drop me off some edge
I feel the wind sometimes from that precipice

Its not a plan, I’m just staggering now
riding the crest of a good job
and my health
and knowing it for luck and youth

thinking I’ll get used to living alone
and writing poems like these

Rose would have me still
but I can’t find it in me
to give up this quest…

I want to squeeze life
until it reveals why it drives me so

and I’m not sure what I’m after
my youth’s passions will fade
and my lovers eyes will jade
our bodies grow old
and our careers peak

will this questing flame be so strong later
when love’s far behind me
and these illusions fallen away

I clutch it to me
perhaps just a small mirror of my ego
and I gamble everything away
day by day

apr 5, 78

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —


Wednesday, April 5th, 1978

Its so different between here and there
just a dream two memories share
and I remember from the other place
that her eyes and lips have pressed my face

Its not easy to see her here
amid the phones and the business air
and sometimes we smile and say nothing much
its empty and far…so far from touch

Ah, but I remember where…remember where

In the soft light I can see her eyes
looking at mine thru our impassioned highs
and her pursed lips waiting, dusky soft and square
like a crushed rose that cries for love’s repair

Yes, this come to me here, in the office now
thru this glass wall amid the computer’s howl
that my soul has touched her’s in flight
and all these bright hours only await the night.

05 apr 78

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —