[Oft reminded of thought's quickness in a croak of noise]
Adam Clay

Oft reminded of thought’s quickness in a croak of noise

from a trustworthy messenger,


a waitress unloved.


The gravity of liberty groans savagely


and make no mistake: I know cavaliers

dream of violence.


They dream of denial’s twisting corridor.


I dream of dancing on the table. The glasses destroyed to ash.


What I can offer to the night: a photograph of bodies

in the river and the ravens above it forming a river all its own.