Lots of Commas and Etceteras Lying about the Hallway: Four Poems by Julian Gallo


Robert Frank, from “The Americans”. Source: fadedandblurred.com

A Sort Of Mirage

Shadows in ink. 

On such evenings I’m

too tired to applaud the maestro

but a fresh maté soothes nevertheless. 

War has not been declared

and there is not one fraction

of my life left behind. 

There are lots of commas

and etceteras lying about the hallway

waiting to be used, waiting to be set free

to dance across the page.

They seem to comfort each other

after these outbursts;

a sort of mirage

these words I cannot grasp



Another curious expectancy

hangs over this day.

The waters thawing,

drawing back

whereas there is nothing to do

but sink into the bed

listen to the rain

and relax.

Words are no good

though I have been indexing them.

I have called for an armistice.

It is finished. 


All The World’s A Stage

In this theater

it is all or nothing.

There are no extras,

only willing participants

who want to throw stones

from the back of the amphitheater. 


Myths In The Cellar

I have put my myths in the cellar.

Mission complete. 

You will begin asking those inane questions,

I’m sure. 

That is why this writing has become a ballet,

movements in which a story is told. 

Words appear but it’s no use trying to solder 

this stuff to the present. 

I am following the bodhisattva’s way.

Why, I cannot tell.

The great quest is how to get to the organic root

of the problem.


Julian Gallo is a writer and musician who lives in New York City. He blogs at Devsario