the poetry of Bill Gainer

The Last Time We Talked

(for José Montoya)

Stopped by to see him
drop a few books off
chat a while.
We hit on this
and that.
Nothing too important.
Asked how he’d been.
“Man, whatever it is
I got it so bad
even my skin hurts.”
I told him he looked good,
he grinned,
showed me his sketch book.
We sat in the little room
off to the right
in the front.
He said the chair there
was better
he had a TV
we could listen to the news
if I wanted.
When I left
he gave me a little salute,
two finger, a tilt of the head,
said, “Fly high man – adios.”
I haven’t been over
to that part of D street
in a while now.
No reason.


Of Good

Nothing good happens
till after the crucifix
and St. Christopher
come off
and you forget about
not wanting to be bad.


A Place in the Quiet

The hour
when the one
changes it all.
Nothing before,
if it ever did,
The light’s
angle thins,
the day’s eyes
close – slow.
You’re left
to yourself


Lima Beans

When the old man died
we quit eating Lima beans.
Still, they’re there
in the canned goods aisle
and he’s still here with me.
He used to love those things.
Me, not so much.
Milk-toast sometimes,
when the money’s short
and you gotta make do,
but Lima Beans, no …



The Sum of Less

There wasn’t
a quiet moment
with her –
were you expecting



Frail Flowers

Her grandmother,
the frail flower
sits in the same chair
asks the same question
what channel’s
Merv Griffins on
today, yesterday

She hopes
when they meet
in heaven
it will be different.
Maybe Merv
will be there
sit with her
hold hands
watch old reruns
talk about the events
of the day – 1962
a good year
for flowers to bloom.



The Fool’s Market

once used thrown
in the barrel
at the end
of the counter.
Marked down
Now and then
they go through
throw the ones
at the bottom
They’re hard
to sell
when they get

2 Responses to “the poetry of Bill Gainer”

  1. priscampbell Says:

    I love these poems.

  2. These poems struck a strong chord with me.

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