greg grummer






Solicitations and grief

from the pharaohs who stole our horses.


Hi, in other words, from my smallish hands.


Hello out there, without in any way

offering to help.


The wind has died.

Au revoir, also, from the soldiers

caught late last night.


After today we’ll have run out of swans.

After today, who’ll remember who called

to say they were coming but never arrived?


Hello, from the water used to put out the fire.


Hello to the rat ‘s breast impaled on a rake.

Hello, ants, here’s a bucket of smote.

Now go, wash your hair in the sea.


“Hello,” I say, but then stop,


for I see that you’re with a priest.