The Jazz Center Lends its Space to Poets for Peace

By Gary Metras

                                                            for Greg Joly


In a west-facing room of a reclaimed factory

overlooking the Connecticut River

in Brattleboro, Greg is reading.

His poems so full of history names & dates burst in rushes

like water releases from the hydro plant:

Jefferson, Thoreau, Nearing, Weigl, Lew Welch,

all dead

but one, all breathing in the same room

as they never could

in the world of text books, taxes, and bombs.

Life is like that—you die,

someone remembers you lived

and brings you back,

even if only for a moment some moonless Saturday evening

in Vermont

as a gray-faced black lab walks between rows of chairs and people,

its toe nails tapping the warped, wood floor

in a rhythm that sings

I am not at peace

The world is not at peace

Listen to these songs    Listen

When applause echoes against painted bricks,

the dog somehow knows

it is not for him; he strolls to a corner, lies down, pretends

to sleep.





Gary Metras has had poems in America, Gray’s Sporting Journal, Poetry, and Poetry Salzburg Review. His most recent book is The Moon in the Pool (Presa Press 2015). He is the editor and letterpress printer of Adastra Press.

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