Poetry

from PRISONER'S CINEMA

25. 

On the seventh day I saw the concrete breached,
the river returned to its original vein, and pulsing there 
       slick and muscular multitudes 
                     of Coho winding north to spawn. 

It was so. 

I understood intuitively, if the Coho are to return
I must maim the developer’s trademark.

 

Now here comes the Prince of fractured libido
                   and his purse dog, Fritz. 

Pages

Subscribe to RSS - Poetry