Poetry by Peter McNamara
I interrupt a cockroach
attempting a backstroke
through the leavings of dinner stew;
he/she seems certain to survive
the age of man.
A guy comes to my door—all insistent
knuckles—with a petition for
improving peninsular life;
I muse as I turn him away . . .
have I thought to return his pen?
Yesterday’s hibiscus wither like
retirees languishing for a
fountain of youth. Lives crisp
beneath remorseless sun:
shadowless, unvarying days.
Roy Orbison renders “Crying” as
Montserrat Caballé paces the wings.
Does time come, or only go?
I should have taken this up
with the cockroach.
Peter McNamara’s “Eating Up Light” appeared in 2022. His work appears in such journals as Center, Main Street Rag, Pembroke Magazine, The Paris Review and Pleiades. He’s a former Wall Street financial editor and lyricist with Polyhymnia and the New York City Gay Men’s Chorus.
