Wartime
by Eric Mohrman

to
pace

in aberrant/exu-
berant
spaces

the
sunny     rainface           won’t               leave,
we

cleave &
clutch, latch
on
to

            smokeovals

roll
over ring
breath

we
were      all        childish               tomorrow

a few
collapsible fu-
tures

intractable
tremulous
song

expatriatehood
black polka-
dotting
fantasy maps

to face
extinguished
places

© 2007 prickofthespindle.com

Eric Mohrman is a poet and freelance writer living in Philadelphia.  He has no BA, MFA, or degree of any sort, nor intentions to acquire one.  His poems have recently appeared in Big Scream, Hidden Oak, Portland Review, The Furnace Review, & Moria.