Little finger
of a moat
protect one side of this city
from another, neither better
for this strip of bay water.
One freeway
to tuck
under the other:
mother daughter,
shy toddler
of an on-ramp.
A lap of wet clothes
and a bottle,
a tramp and a backpack gang
tagging the insides
of factories.
They leave they’ll leave eventually.
Silt, settling
in your belly,
melting trench songs
men sang
in the days of industry
will fill you up, give herons
a place to step, drink
fish, and all of this,
these sad last
signs of settlement
will muddy-up.
This poem was published in the summer of 2010 in the 9th issue of Monday Night, an online and print journal of poetry, prose, and other new literature.
Two responses
• Bruce, March 17, 2010 at 7:58 am
Oh boy! That’s doubly exciting. Please let us know which bookstores carry Monday Night so we can get a copy.
• Joa, March 18, 2010 at 8:49 am
Thanks Bruce! I’m so excited!!! I’m not sure which bookstores carry the journal, but I know Issue #9 will be available from the journal’s website sometime in the next month or two (http://www.mondaynightlit.com/about.html). I’ll let you know when it goes up!