Poetry from Maxwell Reikosky

Better Now Than Never

My youth affords me little time.

Moment to moment I waste away

like taciturn rock under talkative water.

The books with which I cut my hair

will reap no fruits when I am bald.

At least, a healthy face i’ll have in death

When you look  in my direction.

The Narcissist

He loves me

For my own reflection

In the darkness of his eye.

Self-Control

I log out,

turn off

And, like a dog,

learn to hold

My leash in my mouth

Cogs

The God-cog turns

The Sun-cog shines

The Moon-cog wanes

The Sea-cog waves

The Breeze-cog blows

The Tree-cog leans

The Bee-cogs flit

The Bird-cogs fly

And you and I, The cogs of we, Interlock our brittle teeth

And help each other Unwind. The God-cog turns…