"Poem in the Manner of the 1990s"

Listen to David Lehman reading this poem.


The angels won't let you touch them.
They're afraid you'll discover the truth
of their genitalia as not even Milton
had surmised. Their nether lips
make them women yet their wings flap
like birds of prey in the image of gods
that lift girls and deflower them
with the passion of a romantic poet
discovering a waterfall in a forest.
So I discover you, so the black wings
of angels and ghosts of boys
beat in the darkness, and the noise
is the noise of two lovers
where two opposite and equal forces
meet before going their opposite ways.

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