Dangers ahead

Tiny spaces

filled with faces

shoulder to shoulder

asses to asses

breathing together

like a million headed serpent

a woman whispers

the words of the prophet

in a child’s ear and he quietens

his gaze

the sound in the subway dries

its sultry, its musty,

the wetness abounds

what poets do you prefer

up your nose M?

what children do you carry

within your brain?

tell me the mathematics

of a hand held courting

and I will tell you

the secret the mighty

Odysseus whispers

in his sleep

on the eternal bed

with two drachmas on his head

there is a million

headed serpent in this mess

there is you, there is us

and there is a foghorn

warning us of the dangers ahead.

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