Shadows of late afternoon,
closed sign in a shop window.
dusk drives out the light,
tamps the business,
sends the people home.
I look at my silhouette
as I hang out here,
stretched interminably,
longer than I’ll ever be.
My flesh is so perilously close
to being just a tenth of what I am,
as I read the sorry tale
of Bessie’s luncheonette…
it’s much too late to […]
birds on a telephone wire
then a car backfires
birds take off
telephone wire sways
I look up
and once again
birds on a telephone wire
like any poet
I grasp for the analogy
meanwhile the birds leave
for good this time
leave nothing but the poem
swaying
~ John Grey
John Grey’s writing has recently been published in Agni, Worcester Review, South Carolina Review and The Pedestal, […]
They flooded the town to build the dam.
It’s buried two thousand feet or so below,
some rotting homes, a hardware store
of pig-iron rusting.
Not much of a place so they said.
And they swear that every corpse
since the revolution was exhumed,
replanted elsewhere.
And the few who lived there
gather on the banks,
have picnics, fish, or maybe
they just sit, pretend they […]
