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a voice crying out in the postmodern wilderness

Midnight Blue Bastards

Before we walked out our stiffness
Just after Ajax and Sue came jogging, heads high
Manure and grass and honeysuckle breaths
Before the first flinch from a red wasp
They’d heckle an invitation
A fight to the death, theirs
It rang through alleys of pines
and died their cradling arms, clusters of green needles
Why did we give chase?
Bellies on red dirt like hairless lions
Real guns
No wonder they mocked us
Maybe we’d get a shot off
but I never got close
Their black beads would see our approach
and they’d caw and flap, midnight blue up and away
Safe, and still laughing

Unasked, Answered

Nobody Reads Poetry