Tag Archives: Steve Klepetar

Steve Klepetar

Beyond Touch

Trees
caught fire,

sky
rained ash,

our hands
were flame,

eyes like coal
burning
in the grate,

hair roaring
in the wind,

until we
were beyond
touch,

all of us
smoldering
in the ruined land.


Steve Klepetar watches the news every weekday at six with his hand over his face.


 

Steve Klepetar

Between Us

we forget the world
so easily
with a little wine

some cashews
and almonds
in a glass bowl

a violin concerto playing
as we shut our ears
to the day’s awful news.


Steve Klepetar might just be the best known Shanghai-born Jewish-American writer of one sentence poems in all of Berkshire County


 

Steve Klepetar

Reading on the Beach

I start out trying to read on the beach,
sun glaring off the page,
but it’s so hard to concentrate

with you rising before me, eyes
burning, hair tangled and wild
in summer sun, book hissing to steam

in my hand as you pull me out to sea,
sky darkening as we swim
beyond the sandbar, past the breakers

into moonlight and the solemn moaning of gulls.


Steve Klepetar, who can play about three chords, went to Junior High School with Walter Becker of Steely Dan and Tommy Ramone.


 

Steve Klepetar

On the Platform

The train was late, so we stood on the platform
staring down the track into darkness,
and my father said
“Don’t wish your life away,”

said it with a slight smile, a little joke,
a little wisdom I could have for free

as I walked down to the far end and back
just to feel my legs move, shake off the weight
of doing nothing, and then the train roared in

and we’re riding into night,
rain beating against the windows,
thickening, turning to snow as we travel west.


Steve Klepetar has cancelled his trip to Canada because they won’t let him buy Nova Scotia.


 

Steve Klepetar

From the Undertow

A woman pulls herself from the undertow,
half blinded by the sun, for she has struggled

a long time against this kind of drowning,
learned to float, respect the waves without enmity

or fear, learned to empty herself when ocean
rumbles beneath a vacant sky, learned to trust

her hands while singers gather on the beach,
voices weaving among shells and rocks

as she sits on the shore counting each breath,
every one her own miracle of mercy and grace.


Steve Klepetar has cancelled his trip to Canada because they won’t let him buy Nova Scotia.


 

Steve Klepetar

Good Lovin’

A man wakes up after getting bumped on the head,
discovers he’s the only person on earth who remembers

the Young Rascals, belts out “Good Lovin’”
(which sounded like “Dude-A-Love” on the record

which doesn’t exist in this alternate world),
becomes a megastar, gets elected president,

abuses his power by signing an executive order
to repeal and replace “The Star Spangled Banner”

with “Groovin’(On a Sunday Afternoon),”
so the House of Representatives has no choice

but to impeach, and for the first time in our history,
after a long and rancorous debate, the Senate convicts.


Steve Klepetar thinks that racism is not only evil, but stupid.


 

Steve Klepetar

To the Reddened Earth

My body fell away and I was glass
and air, a handful of sand tossed
against the window, then streaming
down in rainbow patterns to the reddened earth.


Steve Klepetar‘s three-year-old granddaughter looked out the big window at the back of his house and said “I love your view.”


 

Steve Klepetar

Before Bed

Bleary-eyed at nine o’clock,
I struggle to stay awake,

book slipping from my hand
as I climb out of myself,

wander in moonless dark
toward the pond,

where a million frogs
break their throats in velvet air.


Steve Klepetar‘s three-year-old granddaughter looked out the big window at the back of his house and said “I love your view.”