201 Readings | 2 Ratings

Center Stage

The women are lining up, demanding verbs

And pronouns.  You spill a torrent of nouns

all over them.  They keep coming back for more.

Statues bleed, time passes, America sleeps with her boss.


Behold, I stand at the door and knock.  We are

On the Celtic ray, our hearts beating.  No one

Answers. Fill ’er up is! is our motto. Our tanks

Feel empty.  Winter ate a hole in our theme song.


You guide the waitress gently to your table.

She feeds you prepositions by the spoonful.
Posted 02/06/13
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