Tuesday, December 18, 2018

Never Tell Them You Are The Words by Ryan Quinn Flanagan


He says he is homeless
and passes the bottle
and you are smart enough
to not say that you
are a poet

to point out
that your woman believes in you
in a way her creditors
do not

and that you still have all your teeth
even though they are
rotting

and the way he coughs into his gloved hand
with the fingers cut away for dexterity
and shows you the blood
so you know such things are tubercular

and not wanting to be another one
of deathbed Edgar’s tell-tale hearts,
I move away;

to a brand new city
when I can.










Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage.  His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, The Rye Whiskey Review, Outlaw Poetry Network, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Dope Fiend Daily and In Between Hangovers.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Hands that Tremble By Leigh Doughty

‘I’m not an alcoholic,’ he told himself most days. As each day he clung on   with fierce talons to the fact that he never drank until five o...