Jared Pearce - Poetry

Goes On Forever

by Jared Pearce

In your cell you tap

a lovely lady, link

plate to plate, then fold

the daylight dying in

a rumpled blanket.

You circuit like the moon,

punch time and bite

coins like the Greeks,

weapons cankered

in the corner, too kinked

to wield for long.

You yield like the tide:

slosh, slow, then surge

and rip, lashing everything

to your broad back.

The lagoon of your posters,

your planted flag, breaks

the surf. Your rain

dance washes you

down the drain.

In your cell you’re the key,

ignition, gas, and go,

hitting the desert highway

to hitch that bum, also

yourself, on the side of the road.