What a Drag

by Steven J. Serafiani

hello there dust bowl,
hello there ceramic city,
hello there smokestack sanctuary,
rising above the rim,
peeking out at my clydesdale lungs,
I see you’ve got your friends,
laying all around you,
filtering the night,
you ash wednesday astute students,
your next of kin burnin,
right on the lip to the lip to the lip,
mingled with coffee sometimes gin,
missin that flame shootin high,
toastin your toes,
crispin your limbs,
you can hear the swing I’m sure,
the bass rattling beneath you,
as you call to your compadre
fresh from the pack
and say,
“what a drag.”

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