ever wondered what
the rodeo would look like
if horses rode
people through the streets
really whooping it
up?
it is nice to
think of the master race as a thing of the past
the same way cable
cars are only dragged out for nostalgia
children thrown
into schoolyards of hate like tiny grass shoots
into the path of
summer lawn mowers
the blade is the
same to us all
why so many shave
with such care before putting
a loaded gun in
their mouth
and I know this
very tall gentleman who does not fit in elevators
he works in a
drugstore downtown, drinking up all the cough syrup on break
and it is good to
pass the time, what else can be done with it?
meals planned like
executions, the necessity of sleep
turned to dreams;
a phonebook on the
floor
with many numbers
in it.
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot
Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Rusty Truck, Live Nude Poems,
Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review.
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