- Opera Bufa
- When You Bit…
- Apparition Poems
- The White Album, Beams
- Posit, Early Poems 1998-2005
- Disturb the Universe: The Collected Essays of Adam Fieled
My moment of discovery, where Albany’s Finest was concerned, was in the realization that my imagination could conceive of what recession-era America looks, feels, and smells like, up close and personal, warts and all.
My wife: the center, fulcrum of my existence.
Has their ever been a higher mountain? I have
basked in my unworthiness enough to realize
that if we never make love again (and we won’t)
I will have led the most fulfilling life ever by a
man without a trust fund. I hear her every night,
splashing around in the bath, after the kids are
asleep, and am overcome with the tender joys
that are a father’s and husband’s. But there’s
never anything to do about it except watch TV.
So, tonight, I’m making a pilgrimage to Albany’s
finest, to knock a couple back. I’m splashing
around in my own bath. I’d like to drink more
(and won’t), and it occurs to me that I might
get killed on the drive home. I’m proud to still
be a little dangerous. And they have the TV on.