Poem: Strutting Inside a Banshee’s Scream

By: Ryan Quinn Flanagan


Strutting inside a banshee’s scream
shirtless and hardly virile
burst blood vessels like cheery seeds
through the dermis
scraggly man-ape hair in unpresentable

camphor bunking down in oil lanterns
mountain pass caravans bringing poppy dreams
to the dinner table

a prayer in the dark
a silent clairvoyance

throbbing kerosene temples flush with blood
sunken armada eyes in the backs
of paltry heads.

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