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Joe Quinton: 4 Poems



PATRIMONY
 
My father often told us
that cows lying down
meant rain is coming.
 
How he arrived at this wisdom
being pure city mystifies,
no cows at his doorstep.
 
Maybe his father
in Ireland knew cows,
things are different there.
 
Withal a dubious inheritance
and wildly inaccurate.

copyright Joe Quinton


"SOLIPSISM"

 
All these efforts
Revert to inner me
Or to particulars
On how I express me.
Something in the world -
"Ordinary rumours
Of wars, plagues, fires,
Inundations, thefts,
Murders, massacres,"
Should stir some word -
Lead an escape
From this me - me – me.


copyright Joe Quinton





TURNING

 
My first wife’s sister
a Presbyterian deacon
   was not a saint
but observed
all socially correct dogma.
 
She worried that
when we were married
her sister would turn from
her ancestral Congregationalism
to my inherited Catholicism
 
That never happened.
The only turning
was away from each other.

copyright Joe Quinton



BREAK UP

 
Devastated --
why use that word?
There was no visible emotion.
She hardly cried,
asked no questions save one -
was there another?
 
Of course I lied -
pain should be avoided.
I had lied to her constantly.
 
She wanted a me
not eager to engage.
Pretending made
a life together possible.
 
It was over.
I had another place,
moving was not a problem.
 
You hand back keys -
but not emotions.

copyright Joe Quinton


Biographical Note: Joe Quinton is a recent resident of Chester County, Pennsylvania after lives spent in Providence, Boston, West Palm Beach and Kingsville, Texas.  He came to poetry after retiring and seeking some form of expression.  He finds it serves as a journal of life today and a memento of what was once.  Both themes appear and reappear in his poetry. See other poems by Joe Quinton published in our September issue.


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