Thursday, June 25, 2015

New Poetry by Andrew Condouris

I was back on the streets

I pulled my cap
down over my ears
crossed the avenue
into the bed of traffic
zigzagged and forgot myself
the snow sneaked
under my scarf
no time, no rest
nothing but the news
and the news was bad
in each of my footsteps
a grip, a breath
glass, concrete
I counted my steps
palms blanched
a purple fire swirling
in my guts
and the fire
spoke across the dark table
of night and sea
of what collected in shadows
and pools and puddles—
the fire sang
the greatest advertisement of all:

the world is wide open
and they’ve discovered another day
in the week and this day is for you
and you alone
reach out
I'm reaching out, too
I tell no lies
reach out
I'm reaching out, too
and it's true no fingerprints
and it's true odd creatures
tread the foam
and it’s true this city
sputters and sparks
and it's true the world
is burning
and it’s true we'll dance and sing
with wanting hands
across the silence
oh can’t you see that I am
a child wiping away the tears
standing up
I speak to you
I have no one else
I speak to you

- Andrew Condouris 2015

Andrew Condouris is, by his own confession, a zen monk who drives a car for uber. He lives in New Jersey.

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