Categories
Poetry

Parlour Room Gossip

By Ryan Quinn Flanagan

THE SKY AND THE NO SKY SPILLING STARS LIKE PARLOUR ROOM GOSSIP

Had this dream where they lined those powdered doughnut horses up
for general inspection.  Whipped a few of the more wilful into snorting 
sidestep position.  Then I stepped away and found myself on some old 
train tarmac looking for my luggage.  The conductor with a whistle 
all the dogs could hear seemed eager to leave.  The sky threatening to rain 
while distant muggers threatened everything else, I was sure of it.  My luggage
lost as I was.  The neighing man beside me pretending to be some horse
in evening dress.  That way I stared would have made anyone else
most uncomfortable.  Fingering that punched ticket hole in my pocket.
The sky and the no sky spilling stars like parlour room gossip.  Some coal 
in the stocking woman running for a one puff train eternally in the black
and looking to make its well-teased bustier run for the hills.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage.  His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Borderless Journal, GloMag, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review

.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s