Delayed Speech

 

These men come from different languages.
Open ranges and tangled containers.
Cambridge, Bridge of Sighs. It won’t budge.
The strange sameness, these dark edges.
Eating bangers and mash, they sing and engage
fake managers, make an entourage of
profane things. Their pangs hang and twist
like a mangled train hanging off a rainy ridge,
wrangled cane sludge. Pen a harrangue. Damn.
It’s encouraging, the same old squid’s ink.
These men of different languages.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s