Bed ruffled.
\nStink rises from the city dump.
\nOld magazines stacked on chairs.
\nCranes like giant steel grasshoppers
\nmove in among the derelict brick weeds.
\nBroken umbrella sailing in from Jersey City.
\nWaves bring the joy
\nof syringes and failed boats.
\nThe morning hums,
\nI’m power grids or I’m nothing.
\nA yawn takes up where sleep left off.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
JOHN GREY<\/strong> is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in New Plains Review<\/a><\/em>, Perceptions<\/a><\/em> and Sanskrit<\/a><\/em>, with work upcoming in Big Muddy Review<\/a><\/em>, Coal City Review<\/a><\/em>, the Coe Review<\/em>, and Gargoyle<\/a><\/em>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Bed ruffled. Stink rises from the city dump. Old magazines stacked on chairs. Cranes like giant steel grasshoppers move in among the derelict brick weeds. Broken umbrella sailing in from Jersey City. Waves bring the joy of syringes and failed… Continue Reading
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