to win unlikely under any circumstance. now the attendant wants all or nothing. an artist hopes to sell at least a small print. reduces price.
chill air promises frost in next few weeks. they play with the children ask only they learn to resolve conflicts peacefully. a hard iron to bear when quarters are required.
the melody engulfs us in our solitude. yet another woman murdered because of misperception of others. life invites destruction as a saying may go. deliberately avoid two random pages when reading a new book.
never the same again. slow down notice the various poses they reveal. it won’t be long now. yet the thought of not unsettles. all black they dress to oppose the sun. glide into position with modicum of grace.
less telling than their effort to exhale. apricots vary to degree unnoticed organic. mistakes add toward a later correct hour. a sudden smell of bleach clears the sinuses.
awakening to new isolation and rebound closets. an old black and white landscape. a violin sans strings knocked as drum beat. they gather to dance. how suddenly confidence reduces to insecurity.
their smell fills the memory. file away among items to be opened later. on such occasions two reduces to one without agreement or copy matters. wide feet and short legs. open sky eyes blue.
Gary Lundy’s poetry has appeared most recently in The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Beautiful Losers, Vallum, The BeZine and Fragmentarily/Meta-Phor(e)/Play. heartbreak elopes into a kind of forgiving, was released this past July by is a rose press. He is a queer living in Missoula, Montana.