Send me yours:
Oleary
Sunshine and Wind
PO Box 2204
Astoria, NY 11102
non-poetry
blacktop paste shines
like winter midnight
only a patchwork
a quilt of work over days
but still harrowing
this thin brown body
jaywalking
across a closed road
sells it
are we killers, are we safe?
i’ve lost my close eye;
i must appeal
to the vast emptiness inside all of us
late at night
I pour over the thesaurus
for synonyms for universe
black highways pt. 5
but not until i was in the barnes and noble realizing
i sweat through my clothes
listening to the highway love unlimited album
trying to make out the letters on the tote bag
realizing i wasn’t wearing a mask
that no one was wearing a mask
o
gasping
black highways pt.4
a small white white wobbly
metal table
painted white but not having faded
significantly.
no clue what
we were talking about but i woke up
unable to go back to sleep
