The Works of David Spicer

David Spicer has, in pursuit of the word, worked as paper boy, dishwasher, bottle loader, record warehouser, carpet roll dragger, burger flopper, ditch digger, weather observer, furniture mover, temporary flunky, gas pumper, bookseller, tutor, 11th and 12th grader babysitter, magazine and book editor and publisher, typesetter, medical journal proofreader, librarian’s assistant, carney barker, chocolate twister, and artist’s model.

He has published in slicks, non-slicks, and online journals such as American Poetry Review, PloughsharesReed Magazine, The Curly Mind, Slim Volume, Yellow Chair Review, Jersey Devil Press, and others.


All Poems © David Spicer

Token of Affection

 

The two-word note from the countess

left me without a shadow or silhouette:

a hatchet to the wolf in my heart’s

forest fire, it sealed off diamonds I might

have mined. I may as well have been Moses

without the ark or a walrus wearing

a petroleum dress. After I scoured

and swept the trashcan’s junk for clues

to my deception, I thought of guzzling

a gallon of gin in her limousine. I almost

spilled my dreams to the librarian

and the hairdresser: how she promised me

a bed with her downstairs, where fresh

blackberries and peaches rested

on the marble countertop. How the universe

hushed after our lovemaking. Yes, she stumbled

on my plan to vanish—how?—but I wasn’t crushed:

the gold bobby pin clipped to the envelope

reminded me she was real as the two words.