crowbars & middle fingers
by Rob Plath
the morning after
the poetry reading
i walked out
hungover
in the august sun
stumbling thru the
crowd
at an intersection
i accidentally
kicked
over a homeless
woman’s
change cup
i had nothing on
me to give
i said sorry
it’s okay she said
then she told me
that
my zipper was down
i looked down
& she was right
so i zipped up
& kept walking
down the noisy
avenue
then two guys
sitting against
a brick wall
said, fuck you,
motherfucker
& i glared at
them
then one said,
it’s on yr shirt
& i looked
down
& it did say
that
w/a big middle
finger
in the center
& i laughed
& they laughed
& i kept
walking
the sun growing
hotter
its long arms
like bright
crowbars
against my skull
& what was
left of my soul
