So long dead brother
life jelly on your tongue
upside down me walks away
shoes tied to my hands
no blood rushing to my head
I was a fool no
the dog of a fool
to live a trapper’s life
drinking in caverns
behind stone doors
time my only bouncer
it took the lightless
lament of the loon
to convince me as I wept
I was never the only fool
seldom do we see the bones
dry as hell’s worn gate
or let the sound of the bones
collapsing ignite us
so long I thought I could
hoist the world
and did not know
the world is where
a few are set free
and the rest straggle
lips violet as irises
a sun-lusting careen of ficus
rifling them to a home
behind a distant ridge
John Riley has published poetry and fiction in Smokelong Quarterly, Connotation Press, Fiction Daily, Dead Mule, St. Anne’s Review, Better Than Starbucks, and numerous other anthologies and journals. He lives in Greensboro, NC, where he works in educational publishing.
–Art by Marcos Lomba