Andrews, Tom 1997

Wednesday, October 15, 1997
with Margaret Gibson

October dusk.
Pink scraps of clouds, a plum-colored sky.
The sycamore tree spills a few leaves.
The cold focuses like a lens. . .

– Tom Andrews, “At Burt Lake”

Continue reading this poem⇒

Listen to Tom Andrews’s Poetry Center reading with Margaret Gibson:

Read Tom Andrews’s poem, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Strangled Moose:”

Tom Andrews Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Strangled Moose

Seven men, a pale woman and a dog Circle the indoor, rubberized track Like strangled moose. Orpheus rolled through his sleep. Eurydice read a popular novel, a period piece Involving a ménage a trois And the strangling of a moose. Dear Mr. Farnsworth, I’m sorry. I swear the black elk looked Like a black moose.

There is a sleep like the long dissolve
of bone into brown dirt. The nurse carries
a paper cup, a syringe of that sleep…

– Tom Andrews, “Codeine Diary”

Continue reading this poem in Tom Andrews’s book, The Hemophiliac’s Motorcycle

More info on Tom Andrews⇒