Your Hands through My Hair like An Angry Bulldozer

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Climbing inside the unruly bandwidth
takes a courage and wherewithal
not seen in writhing Teuton nature,
the legs thrust out like biological roadways,
old flying machine that never left the shop,
your hands through my hair like an angry bulldozer,
proclamations of a sea-faring Love;
your gangplank eyes cast downward into
cavernous sink basin, dizzied and bloodshot –
each of your children with dirty dishwater names
I’d rather not pronounce,
the reek of ammonia and an ice machine on the fritz
so that night things into neon jolt our nary-idle minds
out of fresh betrayals.

 

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be widely found both in print and online.

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