thinking .
I put on my penny beethoven
and cry myself to sleep
draining at the limbs
an ocean dreamed me to life once
I say I love fish, but in truth
I mean the taste of them
and the pretty swish of their tails
this is the century of our drowning
knee-deep already
and we still say the future
as if it were a place
a kiss shall not wake me, but
oh the embrace
my three penny moonlight makes
the first move
This poem appears in
A Flower Room
© Brendan Bonsack
April 2019