Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Eighteen Winter 2008 |
On My Walk Madonna J. Arsenault empty bait shop fish shed few seagulls silent boats and car engines old railroad ties on the wharf smell of creosole and tar baby seal sleeping alone on the rock beside Butchie's boat burdocks and orange iris' thrive where Terry used to sleep with the seawall cats. dried nets bouys under the torn black tarp one loose plank boats like tombstones young boys playing on the rocks swearing like an old fisherman with a hook in his hand. |
About Madonna J. Arsenault |