"feeling amicable in mid city"

By Anna Harberger

 

 
 

preach, pity,

         profess, grouse onward

for we have all taken our seats. must we

drag our limp tendrils around again and

               again

strangling glasses of chianti, and burnt

drag the cigarette to stained lips, 

                thin, pursed, 

hollowed our eyes,

shallow our semblances.

 

go forward

         with your prayers for california and all of us

beautiful fascists.

exalt poignant waves, destitute, though

               burning still 

               shining still

with fire.