3 poems by Paul Harrison

running hands thru hair and mirror

i recollect janette
and how she laughed and giggled
and how i thought
she was gorgeous
and how she used to say, laughing
“it’s all about me”
janette the hair-dresser, 24
and how she combed my hair
for lice in rehab
and how i thanked her
and how i liked her
and how 3 weeks later
busted, discharged
pissed, high and walking dead
she found the trinity along that road
“it’s all about me”
in my head

(after linda lee)
of course
there was that time
in the cemetery
right beside the hospital
‘the braid’ i believe
high on acid, speed and piss
and that nurse the fat one
and the poem you forced
and how later
in a loyalist drug dealers flat
before you/d even heard of him
michael dransfield flew past

the present anxieties of time

am from the future
he said
a man without a past or country
hello i said
then the phone rang
and the reverie and line went dead

Paul is author of the new chapbook Corrugator (48th Street Press).  You can check out a review of the publication at Nostrovia! Poetry.


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Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

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