A new poem by Brian Flaherty.

menton

everything here once belonged to the dead     I look
at you noticing my looking   we shelter in place

near the border      you cannot vanish without a witness
cannot drown without water     the med this morning

gate-crashes our pebble beach      with a heavy swell
large enough to fill the mouth and eyes       the egyptians

called it wadj-ur     the great green     but today it’s a panel
beaten to metallic sheen       a history we have long forgotten

as bleu as a blurred religion I would believe if not for the sky
writing its silver epistles on to our  faces   we cross

the train line and climb avenue   katherine mansfield
her annex is an empty cave    damp and forgotten    the writers

scared off by covid’s terrible chest      instead we wait
outside    listen for the ghosts   know that they listen for us

The Friday Poem is edited by Chris Tse. Submissions are currently closed.