1913issue6online

36 Slight Wrinkle If I only utter the innocent few remain Earth by the spoon Bed sculpted out of dirt floor I want all the shoes on my head to be slept in City in stitches where I wave like a flag submerged No place to go is there And I don’t listen because I can hear Hiss gong and chatter My side of town where you would never do those things My gait improves to make it all raw When my heart fills so how am I to know what it is Don’t leave my mind Don’t ever change the tricks you use to remember Of all the steps taken only yours are audible Ripe yellow light from which you are shielded At the corner exposed Your brows pinch Nose with slight wrinkle Eyes-shadowed look of a military scout -John Godfrey

1913issue6online

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