writer’s block drowns the capital in tears

By | 1 January 2004

We are ugly, but we are here
with our poems for an unknown battle
and literary news in buzzwords. Three am.
Elders should be washed back and scarlet.
A manhole cover lifts open. Arturo laughs
so loudly he drowns the sound of the battle.
Wordlessly, he drowns the rest of his ale.
This collection of stories came from the writer's
experience and you don't need a room full of Italian furniture
to get the words down on paper.
Speech follows speech. The feminization of gun debate
drowns as long as the guitar drowns
in the capital.

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