Our visions disgust the sky
volleys of rain vomit down over matted
hair, the letters of neon signs going out
like an unwanted alphabet
garbage cans full of abortions and
needles sticking out of arms
like failed space launches
blown veins and blown Johns
speeding away from the curb
and putting their wedding bands
the food inspector with a mouthful
calling the waitress over for
Distance Runners Miss the Point
Outside the Fresh Co. in Espanola
grab the ass of her jean shorts
and tell me all that could be mine
She knew this place just a few streets over,
It was quite the sales pitch.
Wiping snot from her nose with
I pointed to my buggy full of groceries
as though I had just spent
Her eyes darting onto the next.
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his other half and mounds of snow. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, WISH, Word Riot, In Between Hangovers, Red Fez, Creative Talents Unleashed, and Your One Phone Call. More about Ryan’s work can be found here at his website.