Warning
A Poem

And who among you is any good at listening to the voice that sings you to stop To behead the vice that grates this street this geometric awareness of the platitudes and longing Simply simpler frames of undoing the high leaving marks that the dead don’t even look at Caged and magnificent hawk on the power lines and muscles go wanting dragging you to a home to some sort of cave A reference to that shame you had about voicing the darkness and not giving a damn about what the liver had to say But now in the afternoon of streetlights and elms the mystery coils around yourself for a new time to sleep
J.D. Harms 2020





