whatever is interesting
in these places
is always happening
somewhere else
and i am a settler
not usually a seeker
the private theater
i conjure
through impairment
a trick of inebriation
decades in the making
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
EIGHTIES ELEGY By Philip Ash
Whaddaya want for a buck? Subway token accesses all Five Boroughs. Warriors! Come out to play-ee-ay! Pierce Manhattan’s underbelly like how ...
-
lemonade hair dead and deflated thin like a bleached ghost; mascara rings fat as a star pitcher’s eyeblack; she cracked her broken finger ba... -
Once he spoke the indirect speech of men, as if making bar bets after third drinks that become sincere, become angry, mean. Just his half jo... -
Diamond hair Bathe in bourbon and butter You are my Sunday prayer You are everything You are all You are life Rita S. Spalding has had poem...
No comments:
Post a Comment