Galway Kinnell Poems on Hair (3 Poems)

The Cellist (Galway Kinnell Poem)

At intermission I find her backstage still practicing the piece coming up next. She calls it the “solo in high dreary.” Her bow niggles at the string like a hand stroking skin it never wanted to touch. Probably under her … Continue reading →

Telephoning In Mexican Sunlight (Galway Kinnell Poem)

Talking with my beloved in New York I stood at the outdoor public telephone in Mexican sunlight, in my purple shirt. Someone had called it a man/woman shirt. The phrase irked me. But then I remembered that Rainer Maria Rilke, … Continue reading →

Wait (Galway Kinnell Poem)

Wait, for now. Distrust everything, if you have to. But trust the hours. Haven’t they carried you everywhere, up to now? Personal events will become interesting again. Hair will become interesting. Pain will become interesting. Buds that open out of … Continue reading →