Three Poems by Barry Basden

Orange County

In the shadow of Disneyland,
I clerked near a woman
physically and mentally desirable.

Not caring that she slept with the boss,
I watched her panty lines and
seduced her with serious conversation.

Peacocks screamed outside our motel,
trying to warn me that I would be fired,
and that she would not leave her husband.


My Old Flame

After eleven years, I called her
from the LAX departure lounge
and knew her voice at once.
“Remember those peacocks?” I said,
and she did. Then, tentatively,

“I think of you often. How’s your life?”
Hers was no better than mine and
before I flew off, she agreed to meet later.
My regrets, left behind,
spun slowly on a carousel in an empty hall.


No Guarantees

“The years have been good to you,”
I say when she steps from the convertible,
her hair windswept and blonde.

In a restaurant overlooking the bay,
I unload my baggage. She touches my hand and says,
“There are no guarantees.”

And so, without warranties,
we step off the dock
of the known world.

4 Responses to “Three Poems by Barry Basden”

  1. Barry Basden lives in the Texas hill country. On hot summer days he dreams of living in an old apartment in Heidelberg and sipping beer on the patio overlooking the castle. He’s been published here and there and edits Camroc Press Review at

  2. Nice move through time, Barry…

  3. Interesting set of poems!

  4. Alice Folkart Says:

    These three have everything to do with trying to hang on to passion, the past, and staying in the present. Nicely done. So unresolved, and, as the blond to whom the years have been kind says, as she climbs back into her convertible, there are no guarantees – ever.

    Nice work, Barry.

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