Eyes like glowing coals;
tongue like a shriveled patty.
Nose like a dripping sponge.

A bearded vendor selling
slices of watermelon to lurid courtesans
in chiffon dresses and to executives who
speed away in their BMW’s.

Bent and deformed children
slobbering over ice cream
cones while regal lords sit
waxen in their gem studded carriages.

A fat cook barbecuing
steaks in the shade of his
trailer tossing scraps of meat high
into the air for his pack of hungry wolves.

Feverishly, a man prostrates himself
at the feet of a benign figure standing
motionless atop a sun dried hill and as
he slowly rises to take the proffered cup
he sees nothing but the infinity
of searing sun, sand, and the width,
breadth and depth of his clearly marked grave.

Something, or someone, moved.
There is a wet haze in my mouth.

~ Gary Pierluigi

Gary has worked in Social Services while continuing to write. Since first being published in Quills, he has been published in numerous poetry journals, including CV2, Queen’s Quarterly, On Spec, Filling Station, The Dalhousie Review, The Nashwaak Review, and Grain. He was short listed for the CBC 2006 Literary Awards in the poetry category, a finalist in the Lit Pop Awards and received an honorable mention in The Ontario Poetry Society’s “Open Heart” Contest. His first poetry book, Over the Edge, has been published by Serengeti Press. He is currently completing his first novel.

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