Two Poems
Jim Kober

Rain like Corduroy

You told me,
if I touched you in public
five times,
you'd kiss me.
Bored after three,
I kept my hands to myself.

From The Horse

You pick up a dead bird,
huck it against the wind.
Not like a girl. Not like you.

When this is over
we will divvy the emotion.

It rains and red birds stick to the grass.
Yellow ones figure eight the sky.

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