Two Poems By Tyler Gobble



I Say This

Pulling 232 teeth out of the mouth of a teen

In Mumbai. Are you this teen? Are you this city?

I’ve never been there and I will probably never leave.

My parents get giddy next to the creek, and I feel

They should move here, or at least, meet my favorite cactus

In Texas, my shed accumulating couches poor saps

Can’t haul with them to Bermuda and I conjure

Them from the Craigslist. While I learn to sleep

The walls are made and my bacon devours me

Each morning. I feel happy in my tank top

Like a blue horse turning red. It’s not that he hates

Blue, but after awhile, it’s just nice to burn red,

You know? The fence still electric but switched off.

Adam and Eve, not Adam and sleeves, his cool buddy

Steve ripping at the seams. The landscape a Whitman

Poem if they knew what was good for them.

I say this and the cactus begins to float.

My parents in their prickly coats.


Other People’s Poems

Hill Fiddle

Stopping by woods

on a snowy evening

Susie sings the blues.


Poem About 1968

My papa waking in a dark time!



gathering the bones together


A Letter In A Station Of The Metro

Dear John,

Then I saw moonlight

mourning an incident

here and there.

Why did you come?

Take me anywhere.


Love Song Of Waste 

Delicious is not boring.

We must say so.


Mr. Party

Lifting barbed wire under stars I begin

forbidding the anniversary of my death.


Ars poetica 

More light! More light!


Insect Gift 

Eating together.


Next To Of Course God

Gale in April shine,

perishing republic,

my clouds at evening.


Somewhere I Have Never Travelled

November cotton flower portrait in Georgia.


Parents, You Asked About The Line Between Prose And Poetry 

Pow. Unfinished blue waves

like mother always said.

Hatred goes to work.


I, Too, Dream Boogie

I marvel from the dark

tower at spring time.

I flower waking from sleep.

Disillusionment of grass!

Let me get up from America!


One Art 

The creation of my flesh, living

death—look at a blackbird.


What The Living Do

Taking off my clothes

I sit and mend direct

patterns—a box, a plate,

tree at my window.


Two Or Three Wishes 

John Keats do touch me tyrant.


American Poetry 

Muse of water, fresh air,

permanent morning swim,

behaving like a Jew.


How It Is  

Buffalo Bill’s Cambridge ladies

who live in furnished souls, dancing—

another insane devotion.


What Is Poetry 

Often I am permitted

to return to a meadow.


Anecdote Of Understanding 

Woman at the Washington

Zoo collapsed. Next day

I’m a fool to love you.


Preface To A Twenty Volume Suicide Note

Agony now, SOS—

black art, wrong train, final sonnet.


Cartoon Physics, Part 1 

Our lady as from a quiver

of arrows, bag of mice.

There will come soft rains.


Silent Poem 


Simple Truth 

Animals are passing from our lives.

They feed. They lion.

Rowing Orion, you can have it—

abortion, wanting to die

in celebration of a uterus.

My mother would be a falcon.



The poet calling

The death of the man

Life’s tragedy


Homage To My Heavy Bear

Who goes with me filling the dream

as mask, middle passage. If we must

die, dancer, gladly. New moon speaks

the epitaph of a death in Nova Scotia.


Speech Between Two People

W: Red wheelbarrow

S:  Of ice cream

W: That greeny flower

S: Of mere being


90 North

Traveling through the dark at the bomb testing site

for my people. Mother in the front yard scars.


Dead Beans

Lovers of the poor driving

to town. Becoming a real skunk

for the union.


Self-Portrait Of A Bear 

Some trees died.

After making love we hear footsteps.


Other Poems

Amateur Fight Poetry

Onion Sonnet

First Fig Poetry

Fish Sestina

Poem What The

Dark Symphony Poem

City Limits Poem

Prediction Manifesto

Power Poem at Thirty

Oranges Poem

Girlfriend Poem #13



Lying in a hammock, my son

mourning the oldest whorehouse

in West Virginia, condemned.



Sheep child calls us to the things of this world—

Degrees of gray in Philipsburg,

Swan falling in snow, freaks.



mail a letter

know a language

rain an hour


Singapore Reunion 

Train windows at the end of the world

Dreaming dead color

My executioner digging



& movies place blessing

down on autumn in Ohio.


Dear California,

a fresh light follows horses.

Death Of My Last Period 

From my window the mechanic begins.


Two Lines From Bessie’s Song

She had some horses.

My house is the red earth.


Marriage like a thermometer.


Last Affair 

Grandfather sang, “The porch is nobody’s

summer day.” We killed the roaches.





Classic Ballroom Dances


Allegory of Tucson

History of My Heart


Samurai song


Introduction To Poetry 

After reading dead Allen Ginsberg

Christmas comes trimmed with colored ribbons.


Machinist Teaching His Daughter To Play 

He was cool.

He thought.

He even stopped for green lights.


Song Pornographer 

In memory of the Utah stars the accompanist

lost a winter lullaby, looking for Judas.


How To Like It 

Return a name.

Complement the language.



Nude Interrogation 

Finished, thanks.


England Field 

How blue or 1993.


Why Ralph Refuses To Dance

People of the other village.


Reaching Yellow 









Meeting The British

Away, silk pilot!

What in cold storm light

& legend begotten,

We were simply talking,

Imagining the hymns.



Mickey in the night kitchen for the third time before bed

wedding nocturne & daystar, thinking of Galileo.


Esta Noche

yellow hair, black stars, and ice forest brilliance


Postfeminism Spare Tantrum 

the orphan inherits

your one good dress


Out of Town

Little clown, my heart is whatever.

Crows in a strong wind got composed.

Boarding school calling

the Indian runaways errata, unholy, Arabic.


Throwback Song 

Jack Johnson does the eagle rock.


Bill’s Story

Black Nikes, wicked alcohol, everywhere.



Our youngest daughter

spooning the Bay Bridge

survivor, hot combs nearby.


Affirmative Action 

Cake, finally.


Another Reluctance 

Traveling, I name that equinox, white elephants, a million balconies.


Tyler Gobble is editor-in-chief of NOO Journal, chapbook editor of Magic Helicopter Press, and the host of Everything Is Bigger, a reading series in Austin, TX. He is currently a poetry fellow in the Michener Center for Writers. He has plopped out some chapbooks, most recently Collected Feelings with Layne Ransom (Forklift INK), and his first full-length collection, MORE WRECK MORE WRECK, is available from Coconut Books. He likes disc golf, tank tops, and bacon. More at
“Other People’s Poems” uses only words from the TOC of the Penguin Anthology of Twentieth Century American Poetry, edited by Rita Dove.