something to muffle the screams
coming from the beggars' yard
the smile on the last page of
the last ledger lies here
cool beneath this bridge of grass
they told me we were approaching
an area of possible turbulence
I stood still and did not move
frozen in my tracks playing
the fool who was never there
the fool you see lurching
out of the corner of your eye
the club foot desperately seeking
some new city of estrangement
August 9,2014
ERIC BASSO
The bicycle review published 2 poems by Eric Basso, on p 10 and on p 66-67
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