King Sing Street
No king has ever walked the street
or sung there, but it does seem regal,
nestled in royally outside the blue house
that has become a historic landmark,
even if only known by a handful of citizens.
Students from a local art school draw
the street and the house with precision
and vigor—penciling me in as I stand
under the street sign, taking my pictures
of the blue house, remarking how quirky
and beautiful it is, humming a little tune
the length of King Sing at long last.
In a Decade
It was so long ago I can’t forget.
Eighteen and going nowhere—
disregard my pronouncement.
I’d have the world conquered
in a decade.
I see and sense everything
on that German street—raspberries
voluminous in their wooden boxes
at market, the smell of sausages,
flowers in their sharp yellow
with bumblebees in the summer’s
Out of the corner of my eye
a trolley is getting closer—“Hop
on, hop on,” a voice says,” before
it’s too late.”
Central Park Early Morning
History has proved to be as sweet
as it can be cruel,
and I’m glad this day has started
out as the former in spades.
My only obligation is not to have
for anyone to fret over me,
no need for me to fret over anyone.
I feel just about as free as the birds
thrashing like tiny daggers
through the burgeoning sunlight.
Soon I expect to be flying
and flying over your neighborhood.
Step onto your street
and say hello before I’m gone.
Tim Suermondt has published in Poetry, Ploughshares, Prairie Schooner, The Georgia Review, Bellevue Literary Review, Stand Magazine, december magazine, On the Seawall, Poet Lore, and Plume, among many others. He lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts with his wife, poet Pui Ying Wong. His sixth full-length book of poems, “A Doughnut and The Great Beauty Of The World,” will be forthcoming from MadHat Press in 2021.