"Out" in Bareknuckle Poet Journal of Letters

You can read "Out" together with four other of my poems in Bareknuckle Poet Journal of Letters


OutLast summer
he left at siesta time
when the air puffs clouds of steam    
the city floats and
dead flowers dream
astonished insects bang around and
no one sees nobody
sins are dormant.
His mouth full of words
he left the bed
unmade pillows, repentance ruffled, dragging a duffle bag
back leaving a grubby trail.