After Baudelaire   The day is gray but with bells A pile of boxes under the roses And like a phantom that needs glasses I go, bumping into things Prosaist, enemy of waking Friend of sleepwalking (you said) and Polaroid Photographer of lightless intersections The day is gray but with bells An overdeveloped negative The paranoid hits the nail on the head No matter … Continue reading Three Poems by Sam Lohmann