25 September 2011

Cincinnati Poem by Joshua Marie Wilkinson

You’ve been asking for a ghost
poem to take up against the kill-hole.

This is us flung off with
so much fireplace slag.

Now a cup of coffee seems
the best ingress or salvo.

A drunk kid outside the strip club fakes
throwing his bottle at me to

spook me. I flinched, but
something’s following him around alright.

1 comment:

  1. "You've been asking for a ghost / poem"; I like that.

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