That Fictitious Place That I Made Up

by Steven J. Serafiani

I pontificated on balcony canyon;

A fuck you to the whores off 7th in Chetaminne, that
fictitious place I
made up.
A fuck you to the trawlers over in Sagamond Harbor, that
fictitious place I
made up.
A fuck you to the marble enclave outside of Frickpont Tavern, that
fictitious place I
made up.
A fuck you to the corn huskers at the Krytanak Factory, that
fictitious place I
made up.
A fuck you to paint pushers in Dumen Café, that
fictitious place I
made up.

My liver rescinds; takes a waltz;
takes in scenic river walk platitude,
from here, the shores seem closer.
Look over,
lover responds with sheep,
my darling coquette.

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