Skip to content →


The lungs are a temporary house.

And, I am housed in a breathless city.

The mosquitoes drifting out from a glass

Of champagne gnaw on the skin above

My elbow. Tonight, I am glad to be

Eaten from the elbow out, the wedding

Covered in smoke from lovers’ mouths, not-so

Lovers drifting in and out of the bone

Of their bodies as if it is possible

To sift oneself through the screen of a door—

Tonight, I am glad to come to a bench,

The yawn light busy in its red yawning,

Nothing feeding nothing—mosquito—lover—

Lover—mosquito—Do you take—I do, I do.

from King MeFind it in the library

Copyright © 2013 Roger Reeves
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

Published in Poems Roger Reeves

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.