Issue 2
Three City Blocks

Three City Blocks

Outside the storefront
the light pulls
cold from the wind.
A language
momentarily on the tongue–
the fishmonger and the barber
beat out the rhythms of their day.
Always a grammar in small towns,
the way people try to time themselves
from childhood to old age.
In the town square
dissidents gather
only to be repelled
by the guard.
A dog snaps.
A woman screams.
Blood throbs atop concrete.
We had thought
the world would welcome us.
How soon we discover
the other hand is never waiting.