
Five Poems
Lindsey O’Neill
Six months of living together, six empty Corona bottles consoling the counter,
he paid me back for my portion of the round cherry dining table.
I packed two forks, three glasses
five apartments in four days, rode the worn-out passenger seat
alongside the realtor, city shivering in concrete ...
he paid me back for my portion of the round cherry dining table.
I packed two forks, three glasses
five apartments in four days, rode the worn-out passenger seat
alongside the realtor, city shivering in concrete ...