Thursday, September 6, 2012

Two Poems by S.P. Flannery

Begging for Light

Blind. His cup thrust forward.
No food, no change requested.
The sign of inked letters,
asks for the sun. Do not
go away. Leave him a beam.
Gray cast skies envelope
as the people walk on by.
They do not have any rays
or they hide them perniciously.
Stalwartly the arm remains
in extension. Shades from
the inferno, of gray, replace
liquid tea. No words.
Hear his silent acumen
for attraction. Just a few
lumens. A few spare drops.


Pray for profanity
to lift the semiconscious,
awaken pall nerves
into revolt, into excitement,
whatever the emotion
gained from intercourse
between individuals
not dulled by routine,
motions choreographed
by clocks or calendars
hardly correct to know
when a person
becomes a machine
without thought
or opinion that requires
some foul words
flung from anger
or love, or ecstasy.

S.P. Flannery was born in La Crosse, Wisconsin, and now resides in
Madison. His poetry has appeared in Random Acts of Writing, The
Alembic, The Mayo Review, Poetry Salzburg Review and Revival. He is
currently a Doctor of Pharmacy candidate at the University of
Wisconsin-Madison. His work may also be found at:

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