Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Forty-one
Summer 2016
Simon Perchik

An everyday rain is not enough
but even so these strangers
walk past your grave

and below the black umbrellas
cling to each other
as that homeless cry

slowly closing around you
and though you can’t hear it
the sky is already dark, sags

and under the small rocks
that come here empty handed
-such a rain loses count

is no longer in pieces
could comfort you
remember its darkness.

About Simon Perchik

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