Poem: Pry

By: Russ Cope

pry

I tell them I don’t
mean to pry, but then
get my hands full in,
open up what was closed,
exposing the darkness
inside,
always disillusioned
with what I find.

***

Russ Cope used to be a custodian. Now he tends bar, rants, and writes. He lives in Virginia with a pack of wild dogs that might turn on him at any moment.

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