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Man with a Bag
Night came at noon
in a bag that I took
home with me—
late night, but the horses
could not carry us
farther than a light ink.
Poems on the topic: bag
Poems on the topic “bag” on Poets.by.
In Stir
The man squirms at the fringe
of the Farmer’s Market,
claims his cranny, and wild
smiles a grimace.
His quarrels turn to spittle across the sidewalk.
Viscous, thick as lubricant,
his words drool
from the corners of
his downturned mouth
onto the front of his threadbare shirt.
Leaning forward he defies gravity,
hovering face-down as if feet
are locked in concrete.
Jerking violently, he straightens
then slides down the side of the building
that guards his back until he sits
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