By Ryan Quinn Flanagan
JERICHO WAS NO ONE’S LOVER
Musical resonance, the skeletal grind,
wheel well tumblings on a red vineyard clime –
Sardinian giant wormholes, shivering,
stuck on a what in the world island,
heaving cardamom can’t work corners,
the formation of sand and mixtape spools,
a cursory lust over the wanting membrane:
frothing, feasting, ruthlessly ensnared
And Jericho was no one’s lover,
scorned his heart for an apple-bride’s cleaver,
drove scurvy from the harbours,
devoured the worm from the bottom of the bottle,
held Man high as the oldest scar,
taunting the land with boundless shadows:
inventor of the first way
to die.
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 Lothlorien Poetry Journal.
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