« Back to issue 36

You cross the street.
Assured stride.
Looking quickly, side to side as you go.

The sun bows and
sinks into freckles,
shines red through auburn hair
and slips and slides up and down
the confident smile that warms your face.
Bathed in white gold.
Hair afire.
Blazing red in the breeze.

And I, in some dirty alley, just barely able to keep you in sight,
am pushing garbage out of the way so
I can lick up stale dog piss
from the cracks in hot concrete.

Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Share on Reddit
Pin It

About Jason Brightwell

1 2
Jason Brightwell lives in Baltimore, Md., where He finds himself regularly haunted by one thing or another. His work has appeared or is upcoming in journals including The Blind Man's Rainbow, Phantom Kangaroo and The Battered Suitcase. You can find him blathering on and on at www.blatheranddrone.blogspot.com.

You must be a Red Fez member to comment.
There are no comments yet...

Graphic of the Week

Thursday, February 11th, 2016

Poem of the Week

Saturday, February 13th, 2016

To the Child at Times Square:

Let yourself be dazzled by the surface of things:  neon signs and the possibilities they represent, for soon enough, you will see that surfaces are only surfaces, and the electrons of Times...
To the Child at Times Square
by Craig Fishbane