Vehicle of dissent:
car on fire
in a street market. 

A call to arms:
the keening of those collecting
scattered, shattered limbs.

smoke — greasy,
dieseled, flesh-flavored.
The clouds hanging low.

choosing what makes any sense here —
eye, tooth, noose, bullet, mercy.

How we laugh in the cafes and alleys
when that word is uttered.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

2 responses to “Closure

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