Robert Nazarene

Robert Nazarene served as founding editor of The American Journal of Poetry.

The Fall

It was a terrible one.  The cliff ledge and a billion yearsof chiseling rains, misbehaving beneath your boots.You never felt the crumpling landing—only 
the eye-blinding burst of God.  Your dog has foundits way down to you and lays its head upon yourshoulder.  A picture of desire and its absence.
And your companion—knowingyet not knowing—your years of faithful friendshiphave come to this.  Just another one of life’s
precipitous ledges.  And, save for the dog’s quiet whimpers, sent by God—all is still.And you?
Just another trinket in life’s unlucky boxof broken souvenirs.  The one named:   Me.

Have I Made Mention?

I drink to feel lonely.
I take drugsto demolish my boundaries.
I writeto feel unimportant.
I prayto feel done in.
My best thinkinggot me here.    I don’t know whyI hate me so much—
I haven’t even doneme a favor yet.

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Robert Nazarene

The Fall

Have I Made Mention?

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