Featured Poetry

Mounted Police

My roommate & I had smoked a joint,
fanning vapors under raised glass, &
here came the anachronisms: knee slaps,
sound of tap shoes on TV, lazy strides. 

Looked out the window to see
two blurs of blue on brown. On schedule.
Same time every night. Think we’d learn:
irrational, inverse Odysseuses,

letting sheep hide under us.
Cue paranoia. Cue doubt, disbelief, &
bargaining. We thought were caught.
Officers on horseback frightened 

like the bell worn for years by Jean Valjean
to warn the young women of Petit-Picpus
a dangerous man was near:
if he wished them harm, where could they go?

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