CategorySocial Justice

The Queen’s Bonfire


Damn the will. The day’s blotterhas given up the dead:a girl’s name and alleged act of treason.A wooden chair for her to sit,should her location be revealed.The plume, a plane, a vintner’s glass,the sprocket in a mechanic’s bag of tricks.I’d rather the search befor something regal than the alternative,a girl in a faded blue dress and a stitchof remorse along the hem. Her...

Drive By


A misfire of justice. The worry of something hard and smooth. The tactile test of opal along the fingers. The soft parts of the flower or the hard stature of a man imposed. In the terrarium of the inner city the lid cracked and not enough peanut butter to spread the length of four children. Perhaps a therapy of furniture, two minutes on the couch in between shifts, an entire...

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