Saturday, October 15, 2011

"In the Lees" by Megan Burns

O death, where is thy breach?

-I. Christensen

turned downwind

a triple threat two bodies on the cusp of morn

detected no breach in the stagnant line of safety

a neighborhood hinged on chance

a necessary night shielded from listening

porch dwellers in the age of aggression

a topical response free fall from function

supplies needed to survive stragglers cut off

in the train of those fleeing

twenty-first mentionables: extractions

or to be downloaded in an urban colloquial

arms widths of winds inward

while creeping in the damp streets

some danger pounced, so you think there exists

outside the fortress of construction

where we hoard design like lucky charms

a treasure tone of multicolored outs

bargaining to better crafted escape routes

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