Poems by David Barker - Page 1

NOT REALLY LIVING go to work come home go back to work day after day year after year it seems nuts to me. sure, you have to make a living but at some point there must be something else besides this.  there has to be, you'd think.

from QUARTET, Bottle of Smoke Press, 2003.

this life is a fool's errand I understand people hiding. escaping into whatever; there is endless trouble, expense, grief.  and then more, and even more after that.  at some point you have simply had enough. as the lunch hour approaches the potato soup cooking upstairs smells mighty good. makes my sandwich less appealing.  damn, I want that soup!

from LUNCH-HOUR POEMS, Bottle of Smoke Press, 2004.

summer loaves I can tell summer's over: my wife threw out all the bread that had turned green during the last hot spell.

from JUST THESE BANANAS, X-Ray Book & Novelty Co., 2003.