Peter Douglas
V3:E11 November, 2001

POINT OF ENTRY

      Dedicated to the memory of the poet’s cousin,  
      Suzanne Kondratenko
      (March 3, 1974—September 11, 2001, World Trade Center)

Manhattan, like a fat gold paperweight,
you hold down the Atlantic seaboard, curling
with salt and ocean breath.  I have come late
back home, to fragments, flustered papers hurling
themselves about in corners -- I have left
the window propped.  And Crumbles, my calico --
doubtful, obese, and old -- has halted the theft
and crabbed one battered item.  Does she know,
as worn and bruised as it is, sweated on
beneath her paw, this scrap of passion still
means most to me?  Because it’s here, not gone
to shadowed puddles off the windowsill,
or moon coins, or out West.  There’s some must stay
behind, until there’s something new we cannot not say.

Date of Birth: December 12, 1978 Location: New York, New York Occupation: Actor, Student at Juilliard Email: pcd@juilliard.edu Publications: G.W. Review, The Hollins Critic, Kimera, Paperplates, Rattapallax, Red Booth Review, The Rose & Thorn, Spank Thru, Undressed, Writers' Journal, Stirring V3:E3, V3:E5, V3:E6, etc.

- September 2002 - Domino Coffee Shop Grammy's Tools The Man I Might Have Kissed Farm Stop Near White Sands, NM Rain on the Roof Prince Verite Last Will & Testament of the Millennium Roots Moon The New Lover in which dali transforms the image of death into my son's beautiful face - Aaron's Favorite Six - Calling the Minnows Moth Point of Entry Lust for Light After Ejaculation Give Me Liberty, or Give Me Spartanburg