Poetry
Two Poems
The Organization likes / to hit them where they’re sleeping
The Judge
I need a money order
she said her voice sounded hoarse
and there was in it a note
of real panic so I looked
surreptitiously to see
not wanting to come across
as a creep leering at her
wondering what’s the matter
I should mention this was in
an old and musty stone bank
utterly empty of hope
or pens at the ends of strings
and on this day her request
rang out an absurdity
because of what we’d heard said —
the rich took their money and fled
Up in the sky I heard jets
shrieking like little demons
streaking over the capital
and more than usual horns
honking in the streets, I can’t
stand that, it means you’re selfish
though this was probably fear
of what was up in the air
Unlock eighteen years of n+1.
It only takes 2 minutes to subscribe.
Subscribe online and gain access to the entire archive.
Or sign in and read it now.
Forgot Password
