None of
those people
be the people.
They offer
no secrets
no big treats
no mood slings.
Not a peep
from the sun today
but be happy:
the new mayor
is a dancer.
I call him
up I say
Rahm fuck
you he says
Nat fuck
you we salivate
for hours over
the promise
of daggering:
the brand
new you
too dancehall.
Now under
this now now
we can now
know now.
Sometime earlier
today we will
feel ok when
damn how
especially if.
Find Nat Sufrin's recent poems in TINGE Magazine and DIALOGIST. Look for upcoming poems in The Antioch Review and BlazeVOX. Say hi if you're in Chicago.