solstice
exhausted, autumn
has just clocked out
her shift is over
but the workday
isn't over yet
for some of us
and the unshaven
sky bristles
with greybeard
clouds
and the leaves are
turning black
and wooden benches
creak their aching joints
as weathered hands
crack open and
bleed upon
cold cobblestones
an offering of
sangria over ice
or a shot of
red liqueur:
a tribute to
Old Man Winter, CEO
on the occasion of
his birthday.
CP
Jack T. Marlowe is a working-class malcontent from Dallas, Texas. A writer of poetry and fiction, he is also a veteran of the open mic. His writing has appeared in Zygote in My Coffee, decomP, Red Fez, Word Riot, and elsewhere. Jack is also the editor of Gutter Eloquence Magazine.
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