Street Lamp

By Jason Deiss

I hear the wretched
of cheeks on shoulders,
the heart-halved murmur.

I taste
the belonging,
the understanding:
we will not silhouette
a park bench.

End my evening
trudging, abandoning
the chip-seal path that rings
picnic tables
and rough-chopped grass.

Categories: Issue 4, Poetry | 1 Comment

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One thought on “Street Lamp

  1. Cork

    Interesting use of the sensory.

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