By Ryan Quinn Flanagan
One pulls at the arm of the slots and waits for luck.
It is much the same after a fine gully washer,
following Mother Superior's pigtails home;
young love starting out: unrequited and misunderstood.
That early schoolyard of cursed land and red rovers,
expeditious tetherball hands in opposition:
Come reed or root, the storm-belly sings!
What an appeasing lightness I find,
by just a simple swift yank of the lamp chain.
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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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
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