The Man in Grey Clothing
by Cory Steel-Omeara, Regular Contributor
by Piping gasps, a chorus in the closet,
up here in the peanut gallery;
we eat purple roses—
Lollipop behind-the-eye, cornea of
sugar twist, & butter;
the paint glistens into street-lamps
& street-features:
Blue roads, an empty parking lot—
evening hawks of white heat,
he is here
The Man in Grey Clothing
screaming for hell
& high water,
fast, not-stopping, he is here.
