Motor Oil Through the Lemonade There is motor oil through the lemonade, razor invasion piranhas enter my field of vision, the floodlight metropolis and payola queens atop the charts – Francis Bacon spectres streaking down a treacherous canvas, that red-eyed seagull flock of swarm. Two rings of twine for a tail-eaten snake. There are craters …
Tag Archive: Ryan Quinn Flanagan
Feb 10
3 poems by Ryan Quinn Flanagan
The Menace The menace is 26 oz. of smoke at birth. The menace is caged hatreds boiling. The menace is the tips of rattlesnake warnings. The menace is fallen comets dipped in paint. The menace is ugly sex faces in scream. The menace is voodoo bones for dice. The menace is comradery losing the kiddie …