A Circle Gathers Around a Fallen Dope

by Shane Moritz

It’s downright criminal,
the length of a weekend.
But give it time.
You know.
Get busy, things can get very
busy down at the abattoir
but I don’t have to tell you that.

You say something familiar,
and something similar to that,
something bad,
and make a startling discovery.
A certain deleting of dimensions.

Your generosity
has turned the cafe
virtual, turned the abattoir
into a bed of frozen vegetables:
peas.

I have amnesia again!
And that’s the good news.
The bad news?
The length of a weekend.

University & College Poetry Prizes Page