Four Poems by Chris Hosea
THE BARN PARTY No one came under leaves drenching plastic cups lit up over- passes pissing thrills a ragged border, call it Texan lace God bless this memory hole hot set top warm soaps animals out race streets closed off locked with shops so they can paste new tip cup jokes the first last days. Prepare soups in the reference section, painkiller sting … Continue reading Four Poems by Chris Hosea