Seagulls and sun
Michael GallagherWords this brisk spring afternoonloft well beyond their target.Days we spend picking meaning from metaphor,like gulls on a beach,ignoring the sun setting listlessly on the endless horizon.
Green
Buried deepin heapsof code,your syntaxdraws joy,like blood from a turnip,like a sword from a stone.It purrs my restless heart,evens my jaggedy, craggy,spindly hope.Were there ever another composite in my furtive…
Question or two
Who kicked your teeth in?I saw someone running the other way, down the street there. Was that him?What did you say? What did you do to provoke him? What the…
City
Everything, everyone is atmospherein a city of lights, never sleepingraging on, unstoppable fury.
Topsoil
This lush lifehosts rootsscuttling in the topsoil,dangling in the open air,fluttering like a pulseafter a day of rain.