Thursday, October 10, 2019

Your Car Crashed and We Are Just Waiting on the Stock Market Now by Ryan Quinn Flanagan


I scratch my head 
with unwashed cactus itch,
in long scratchy supermarket lines
that throw up morning hair.

Your car crashed 
and we are just waiting 
on the stock market 
now.

Your lawyer was smart to put you 
in that neck brace.
Appearance is half the battle.

Did you know that Spanish Flu started
in two different places on the same day?
Like bringing multiple women to orgasm 
at the same time half a world apart
with extra-long fingers
and not having either want 
to marry you.

No one complains about the work
when they are out of it.
A bed by the window so you can 
sleep in traffic.

Rub the genie of your eyes.
Waiting on wishes.









Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage.  His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly,The Rye Whiskey Review, Outlaw Poetry Network, Under The Bleachers, The Dope Fiend Daily and In Between Hangovers.

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