By: Joe Meyers
Our laughter became hysterical and desperate,
Wet lungs coughing yesterdays,
Scavengers trotting to our dens
With bellies tickled by the road.
Luck rode us, pulling and pushing our souls
Till everything became the pantomime for yes,
For ridicule and mirrors.
We'd outgrown our shadows
And forgotten the taste of wind.
The rain woke me.
The sky staked me,
Some passing pissing breeze
Invisible against unlikely blue.
There were teeth in the alley with me,
Broken and yet quite yellow.
Till someone smiled
I wouldn't know who.
Joe is a retired baker living on the shores of Flathead lake in Polson, Mt. He is a graduate of the University of Montana with a B.A. in English with an emphasis on creative writing. He's been published in Sunder Press and Eighteen Seventy magazine.