When the author was sixteen.


Excerpted from an 18-line poem called "Autobiography," which appeared in my high-school literary magazine, The Register.

Fragments from 1985



Neither lust nor aloneness makes

A readable poem. Yet somehow they

Make fair subjects for foreign films.




Alleys of longing separate

One city youth from his dark goal:

Communion with electric nights,

The revelation of hell's colors

Beneath the streetlights.




... a shadow-haunted hymn of praise

To androgynous divinities,

Cinematic ice-blue faces

In the death-drunk distance.


Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-06-04 at 06:00

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I wish I had written as beautifully as you did when I was sixteen.