Glass: A Journal of Poetry Volume One Issue Three
rotary
he chuckles himself sick on peanuts, cigars and
checkers in the park – skeletal leaves pitter-patter
on rained-cement and lottery tickets jackpot in the gutter –
wind-soaked; his face a dream of the city at dusk,
6 o’clock shadow overtaking his throat and hands
and fingers like robots with cricket-ball joints.