The Sunday poems, by Michael Gould

2026-03-14 - 17:06

The Devil and the Divine I’ve been with the devil he lives in hell the food was divine the sex, swell. Mother, Father Mother had many friends Pearl, Eve, Claire, Jean Lillian, Gert, Ruth, Gerry Gertrude, Mildred, Rose, Terry her sister, Pauline, the two Marys all gone. Dad had a friend, his brother, Lew like his son, a party of one Dad knew true friends are few. You’re still young they would tell me, even when I was middle-aged and going through hard times your whole life’s ahead of you they would say. Now, I’m still here but they’re far away. They Called It Love I saw the man I thought I loved – the love of my life – three times in two days, but after that we didn’t have much to say we kissed, though our eyes didn’t meet and smiled, but a sense of denial was already spelling defeat. Was that kiss a kiss-off was there a wrong move at the wrong time, or was he ultimately never meant to be mine? Several weeks later I saw the man I thought I loved – the love of my life – again; man, one-night stands are a pain and while his slap-happy smile seemed to slip from his face, then hang in space I passed by. Taken with kind permission from the newly published poetry collection Perverse Verse (Expensive Hobby, $30), available from selected bookstores or direct from the publisher.