I Used To Be Me  
Selected Poems, Expanded Edition

Bert Glick

Paperback, Expanded Edition, © Bert Glick 2019,
153 pages, 6" x 9" ISBN - 13: 978-1791960674

( Order Book)


You will need
to hear Bert Read. 

 by Bert Glick







She said
I had a cookie aura
about me
I was sweet
a crumb at heart
I for my part
accused her
having a chocolate chip
on her shoulder
and so
we nibbled away
at each other
I melted in her



(It came and went)

From buggy whips to my red Camry
Kamikaze Mitsubishi
It won't be stylish marriage
I can't afford a carriage
Mo town Nissan we've got a lease on
From Kitty Hawk to the Moon Walk and beyond
Today the Solar system, tomorrow the Galaxy
and concentration camps for computer retards
From Victorian-The queen's not amused-to-
to God's-our-only-sponsor-on-the-air-
all adding up to a good papal fisting at the DNA Lounge
From the Gay 90's to the Gay 90's
a hundred-year progression
when our hearts were young and gay
to our kids young and gay
  "My son married a man!"
             "Is he Jewish?"
  "Is he Black?"
  "Does he take drugs?"
From booze prohibition to pot prohibition
and the drug war on people
The New golden Rule:
More prisons than schools
From the molten core of our comic, atomic century
the two German Wars to the so-called Cold War-
The Commies are coming-
of living memory
To make the world safe for democracy is fear itself
never in the history of human conflict
so much light at the end of the tunnel
do not ask what your country can do for
prosperity just around the corner
and a chicken in every pot, my little chickadee
or is that a gun in your pocket?
With one small step for a man
I shall return
with peace in our time
because I'm no crook
I didn't inhale
with that woman


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My roommate
  The Mosquito
waits late
  for me to bed
  buzzes my head
  believes we are wed~
  My blood the nectar
  of the gods
  she drinks deep
  I can't sleep
No protection
  from her injection
  I Swell from
  her affection
not to mention
she won't even
split the rent


"My swollen thighs are rubbing against my balls." -- 
 Declares my dying friend Jack.
"Call the nurse." --   I shot back.
 It's a word I picked up from the beyond."
"You're good company in  your present state."
"I'll be less bad company presently.
 I say the word 'die'
 as much as I lived the word 'fuck'."
Allowing no crying in his presence:
 "Save the tears for the funeral." -- He tells us.
When I call him at The Last Roundup Hospice:
"Is this Sugar Ray?" -- I ask.
"It's Saccharine Ray." -- He replies.
As an old theater hand,
he does rib splitting Alzheimer imitations of other patients
my mortal mirror, tumorous humorous friend.
"My humor is  depleting by 5% a day.
 I can't wait to hear my eulogy.
 Poor me, all I did was get what I wanted.
 Every day is a poem dedicated to one day more.
 I could get into writing some post life poetry."
"He made you.
In a garden of poems he gave you birth." --
 Chant the old Aztecs in his ear.
"We only came to sleep,
We only came to dream."


You can't lie about your age at a 50th high school reunion

Our ages ago faces
from yearbook pages
                      (squeaky clean)
jump out at me
skidding my mug
on icy Chicago streets
in the '56 Chevy in '56
acquired from tantrums I threw
shackled to conformity
in a cashmere sweater craze
of nocturnal emission days
he Commies are coming!

Ages ago faces face our faces
mature at last
ingesting Parmeasan something
between burst of camaraderie
and a hug or two
popular clique shtick at table number 1
and hidden children of the holocaust
among us
'What have you done?'
bio brew
richly endowed
part of the swirl
this never futured night exhilarates me

"I remember you.
We didn't speak those 4 years
and we didn't for 50 more.
You're attractive still"

"You're blind or kind" --she smiles.
e embrace, Denise and I

A memory mix
at our two day time fix
wanting more

Any publication of this poem is punishable
by total adolescent recall




            No canes or walkers among the talkers

                                at Reunion fifty five

                                Yes, more sagging flesh

                                but still alive

                                Yes, fewer of us -

                                a gang of 50 plus of us

                                2,000 miles some come - 2 miles some donít

                                Whoís more popular now?

                                Who through it all has aged gracefully?


                                Nostalgic footage of the 50ís

                                a D.J. plays hits of those days

                                of Elvisís pelvis

                                Cold War years


                                Donít ask, Iíll tell

                                of graduating in the bottom half

                                of the bottom half of the bottom half

                                Oh well


                                Thereís Joe

                                whose portraits of me hang on my walls in California


                                No words between them for 59 years

                                ďYouíre still cute, Joe.Ē -

                                Linda smiles.


                                Iím cute - Iím old - Iím young

                                rolled in one tonight

                                More fun than high school tonight

                                number 60 down the pike.



Should it be a crime
to denigrate patriotism?
My answer:
Any anti censorship extravaganza
worth its salt
must feature American flags
pulled out of American vaginas
simulating the birth of a nation.
Next question.
Was that first sperm cell
floating in the ocean
That we all come from
Ejaculated by God
Uniting evolution and creation?
The answer is
 (A.) Maybe.
(B.) Who cares?
(C.) Blowing in the wind
Next question.