The Poetry of
Michael G. Khmelnitsky

i like the sparkles in her eyes
somewhere it snows
and everything  it has an eve

i lead a littoral existence
always on the cusp of hell
with never a reprieve

both types of creature
are a raging beast  at least
we recognize the features

between erotic sneezes
into palms  we try to holler "fire!
to come faster

to be each other's dog
we first (before we thirst
must recognize our master

her thighs is how he dies
the fishnet principle dictates
there was a man who had a plan

there was a man who turned his piss to wine
there was a man who wished to kill himself
there was a man who felt quite absolutely fine

there's a transition missing here
the embrasure of her embrace
the dedication to my mother

a pomegranate shrapnels in the eye
and one knife grants its parturition to another
someday someone will find the key to this

my notes  the screws I dropped behind the cabinet
there'll be no countdown to the moment
no revelation to be hand in fingers

rounded perfectly  we dance
without so much an inkling of a comment
she walks from hall to hall

observing the exhibits with a frown
a yellow line is painted on the ground
(you mustn't come much closer

she walks around the box of glass
her task  observing the cornered tusk
so beautiful and tangible  not changeable

not fungible  when you come home
don't take your shoes off (it is Kristallnacht
the food is on the table  if you eat

please add the herbs and half the cheese
(the highest shelf is where things freeze
and if you don't—