October 16, 2018 | Poetry
Isaac Ginsberg Miller
In January the birds awakened mid-
flight. In February the bats left
their cave and we... more
"What am I supposed to do?"
And christ it's gonna be hot inside the tiny bar where SUMAC is playing tonight. I should've stayed home. Like I always do. An old man on his couch.
The kettle boiled; I made the tea,
And when I turned around,
I saw she’d set the cups and placed
A third one for the skull.
Every book says I’ll miss this part.