Gregory Lawless

PS


Today, a shovel of geese
flies over the city.

Nobody sees me.
The tulips shrivel

into yellow vowels.
PS: coming home,

I pour some change
into a beggar's can,

but the coins keep falling

through the can and,
further, into the earth.

A year from now
I might wake up

suddenly when the coins
tumble up through the sea

into the hand of a sailor,

who was just then
thinking of home,

wanting
nothing from me.

Gregory Lawless is a graduate of the Iowa Writers' Workshop. His work has appeared in or is forthcoming from Amarillo Bay, Ampersand, Apple Valley Review, Arava Review, At-large Magazine, "Best of the Net 2007," Blood Orange Review, Contrary, The Cortland Review, Drunken Boat, Front Porch Journal, Gander Press Review, H_NGM_N, La Petite Zine, Memorious, My Name Is Mud, nth position, Sonora Review, Stride, and 2River. BlazeVOX recently published his first collection of poems, I Thought I Was New Here, where "PS" appears. He lives in Waltham, Massachusetts.