The Maynard
Spring 2015

gary lundy

what do you talk about when unoccupied

what do you talk about when unoccupied by the givens of your upbringing. that's not something you should do in public. nor in front of your mother whose fear fills your life with the excuse of wrong doing.

the sentence that drives desire derives its strength in denial. in imposed self-hatred. in poetry sentences are fragmented memories disabling all certainty. confidence flees into the comfort of status quo.

my first lover father escapes his mother’s strictures by diving head first into my awaiting innocent body. dwell in some hidden context. we meet and forget almost immediately.

love so fragile. this early lover father whose touch beautified my unexplored mundane life.