The poems of Simon Perchik have worlds of subtlety, while at the same time piercing their subject matter with a profound, precise detachment. Whether he's discussing death, fate, or the struggle of human existence, the author vividly shows us his most secret thoughts, in a way that demands to be read again and again. The strength of these poems will startle you directly into their multilayered meaning.
Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poetry has appeared in Partisan Review, The New Yorker and elsewhere. Readers interested in learning more about him are invited to read Magic, Illusion and Other Realities at www.geocities.com/simonthepoet which site lists a complete bibliography. Drop Simon a line at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Simon's works here at Unlikely Stories are:
And the long march calling home the dead
You bark as if a knock
All the pieces must be found, make
The rain is slower at airports
I breathe across and the sun
At night you can tell the stones
I run my fingers, favor granite
You can still make out the waterfall
This apple still warm
Where is the poison