Two Poems
J. Michael Wahlgren

After C M

Not bright. I found a small quaint seat
inside of a crowd. I found an anchor, awaiting

inside of a sea. This remedy. I drop the needle
& everyone is dancing, then, everyone tires

quickly as if kinetic is only a word. I have potential.
This girl. This tea-cup. This poem.

The Dead

You start out a genius. You can
only get worse. You're
driving a hearse.