shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare


Levi Wagenmaker is a (re)tired journalist, living the low-life in the Netherlands' flat mountains for one part of the year, and a little higher up down in the French Creuse department (Limousin), for another, with three bitches, one of whom a woman, and a younger male, something of a dog also. Fingers stiffer than his upper lip, he writes poetry in English, one of the languages acquired in his younger years, and best suited to his urges in that respect. His poems have been published on the internet more than in print, and Google (Yahoo, Bing, whatever) will reveal what, where, and when.

Levi Wagenmaker

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we met

we met
the way breeze meets blades of grass
a brief dance of ritual gestures
a token offering at the altar of intimate superficiality
you thought we shared a nationality
and didn't believe me when I denied it
a question of language you said you could tell it was native to me
flattering for being false
you watched me walk away
the street turned a corner and pulled me with it
you didn't blame me and so left me unforgiven
with only the slightest sense of guilt
and moments to remember and a name