ian aleksander adams — small works

Small Works – Several Small Poems of Varying Success
by Ian Aleksander Adams

Words from 2007
Photographs from Being Inside, published 2008
and Gray Days, published 2009

Living in an impressionist painting
is a series of
squints
blinks
teary eyed,
questioning
glances

black frames and a patch over one eye.
as I stare through borrowed glass,
the world warps and pulses
not quite how I left it

dark lines meander to
delicate fingers.
Not so delicate, Porcelain.
Mind and muscle,
your eyes
send a city soul to his books

early morning hot dog
you
you are the heart
of my gas station romance

these are the gray days, the depths
soft dim light
over mattresses without sheets
the slow realization that the plate of plain spaghetti
has dropped to the floor
shattered, broken
the mass of pale noodles reaching out
like some poor medusa's wig
lazily stretching downward
picking up a stray zucchini
and slowly chewing

the summersick
sipping water and swallowing
with eyes clenched, subtly pained
brushing a fly off the windowsill
replacing the silence with the sound of a fan
feeling the cool air on your sweat
and
looking down to see your nails have grown
and
are blackened with the grime of time passed
while you were unaware

my mind is thirsty
if not novels or curious facts,
I stay up late drinking tidbits
of private lives

tattered, worn comforter
more comforting for its wear
wrapped loosely around your body
more worn for its comfort

—
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