shot glass
Issue # 7 May 2012
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Sonja Johanson

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John, Gone Woods Queer

John, gone woods queer,
Huddles behind the weeds.
Becomes the long shade of trees
So that glancing headlights
Never strike his face.

Breakfasts on blanched grasses
Folded in their sheaths.
Sneaks sips of blackberry wine,
When the shiny green bronze beetles
Are too torpid to object.

Stands handsome
In his knitted, knotted kippah.
Willing to wade frigid cellar waters
To be unqualified cantor
For the roadside frog.