Category Archives: Poetry

SQUARES by Peter Nolan Smith

Who here has shot at someone? Who here has been in jail? Who here has been beaten by the police? Who here has cried after a mother’s death? A father’s death? A friend’s death? The birth of a child? Who here listens? Who here sees? Who here speaks? Who here feels? We all have these […]

September 25, 1978 – Journal Entry – East Village

Living in the shadow of the Blue Hill Meteorological Observatory during the 1960s I was obsessed with the weather created by the long chain of hills south of the Neponset River. Snow filled the woods in the winter, spring rain flooded the streams running across the overgrown farmland the bogs buzzed with mosquitoes in the […]

September 10, 1970 – Journal Entry – East Village

Gold, jewels, power, hate, and sex. Why nations fight wars People decided to die rather than live Stupid reasons. I had a friend in Maine. Chaney and I promised never to swim alone. My family moved from Falmouth Foresides in June of 1960 A week later Chaney drowned in Sebago Lake He was eight. In […]

LAST CALL IN BUTTE MONTANA – OCT. 1978 – BAD POETRY

1974 I arrived late in Butte Montana. The bartender at the Cowboy Bar shouted ‘Last Call’. I ordered a whiskey and a beer chaser. Someone put on Gram Parsons I looked around the bar for my wife A man in Billings said Mona might be here He might have been right then, But tonight he […]

Drifting On the Sea – Hart Crane – Poem by Peter Nolan Smith

Published Feb 14, 2021 Sunken fishermen struggle to swim Without anyone warm enough to shed a tear and they know who will join the sea. The night stars illuminate the path to nothing. for a drunken poet someplace to be other than the wet Caribbean A ship’s aft lights dim in the dark and the […]