Two Poems

My Nose Considering Your Nose

My nose is now considering your nose,
The first touch is cold like a greeting from a raindrop’s mouth.

Our noses touch; and this kiss creates a tickling song from our lips
While our noses begin to entertain a love

Growing inside our eyes, lips, ears, tongues
And, of course, our noses’ hearts.

My nose, on this late night bus, is now considering your nose,
Becoming excited by the possibility of our meeting in a few short hours.

My nose is in love with your nose,
Knowing nothing but the miracle of smell and the fact of this love for your nose.


Without Stopping

Traveling on the 8:05 Duluth bound
Evening bus,


I find the Greyhound driver tapping
His solid plump red fingers
On the steering wheel,

Keeping time
To the music in his head.

There are moments I can hear his song,
Feel his thoughts,
Understand his voice.

The driver and I stare searchingly at the centerline.

The centerline
Soundless and strong
Does not lie.

True to its accepting curves, yellow guidance, and
Determined path

The centerline goes on and on—

Without stopping.

—Patrick T. Randolph, Murphysboro, IL