by Nicholas Bon
I want to find the way
through every tunnel—
us not ever stopping
for gas, tires always…
All articles filed in My Circus Mouth
ONE HUNDRED KNIGHTS RIDE IN, ARMOR RATTLING, SWORDS DRAWN, AND I’M JUST SUPPOSED TO BE OKAY WITH THIS
by Nicholas Bon
We have to accept the things
we cannot change, they say.
Though I guess I could
overturn this desk in a fit
of spontaneous ecstasy or rage
or something else felt strongly.
