Four suits walked out the tavern door
Four smiles stuttered and sang to each other
Fine polished shoes scuffed themselves against the sidewalk
Laughter was their king, and they bowed to her
Now there is a man hyperventilating in the kitchen
and someone else is trying to shush him.
There are sobs pounding on the back of their teeth.
Their eyes dissolve into the salt water.
I myself can no longer see where they are:
My feet are stuck on a carousel in the foyer.
I cannot but shuffle forward and cry.
All I know how to do is walk in circles and scribble lines.
Here’s a late post in celebration of World Poetry Day, which was yesterday. This was originally published in the Fall 2013 issue of the Case Reserve Review and later republished on my now-defunct tumblr. Photo is from my semester abroad in Cardiff.