Confessions of a Handyman
by Mike Camp
The latest collection of poems by Mike Camp. Divided into four sections, it deals generally within the areas of Love Stories, Religion, Nature and then Everything Else.
Mike Camp's artistic endeavours expand far beyond poetry to include sculpting, metal working, painting, and can be seen on his website at Mike Camp Designs.
ISBN: 9781927541456 | WMPub#1144 | 5.5" x 85" | 68 pages; trade paper | $14.95
I. Love Stories
One More Time
A Single Line
I Made It Through
Be Careful With That Letter
I Bid You Goodbye Most Reluctantly
If You Can Find
Will You Never Leave Me?
Never Once Did I Dance With You
The Slaughter of the Innocents
One Gallon of Hot Water
What Did You Do Before You Were Born?
My Silent Friend
I Really Miss
My Little Cabin
A Child's Prayer
For Richard Dawkens
Christmas Prayer, 1992
I Saw Christ Hitch-hiking
One Small Request
A Special Occasion Prayer
IV. Everything Else
The Quebec Ice Storm
In Memory of John Barry
The Cup of Cappuccino
I Hate All Music
The Brown Bean Crock
I Got Me A Gold Claim in the Yukon
Middle Class Angst
A Single Line
By Mike Camp
A photographic memory, completely unrequested,
Engraves the faces, figures, and Iandscape vistas,
Upon the permanent copper ground,
Of my most willing subconscious.
That same random talent, carved in stone,
Your breath and kiss and caress and moan,
Activating ghosts of skin and thighs and succulent lips,
Emphasizing my present aching emptiness.
Even though it could never have lasted,
Because of major, emotions contrasted,
How do you physically erase this line,
Mortally cut, into the receptive metal of my mind?
A line which starts out ever so innocently,
And changes, always so relentlessly,
Into a limb and a face, a figure and embrace,
And finally, unfailingly, into a tortured tear.
A single, God-damn, heart-breaking line.
If I could but erase that single line,
The rest of your image would become unfixed,
And, free at last, made to fade, finally and forever, away.
I feel that soon I shall find this solvent,
And I will apply it with wild abandonment,
In joy at emerging from three years of darkness,
And I promise you, when this comes to pass,
I shall never cast, even a single fleeting glance...
In your direction again.