Two Poems • James B. Nicola

Birthday Suit

What I am wearing now
I shall wear at close of curtain.
My birthday suit's
the foundation
layer of a shroud.
Of course they'll add a tie, a smile, a coffin
or a kiln.
Meanwhile I've added bagatelles
to keep warm and alive
absent you.


The Letter Not to Send

September was the time to see

November, time to telephone

January is the time
To bury under snows

That March might thaw
And April melt
And May return

As more than nothing