Sam Bailey
Year of the No-Talk Rule | Poetry
Sam Bailey
Year of Dead Wrens. Year of Give it Back. L Yearzley, it’s been raining for three straight days, and the drops have stopped guessing. Yearzley of the Wish. Of the Church. The 1 Bus is late again, and I’m standing, again, in the rain. Year umbrellas march like shields to the chivalrous war. If we’d married, Ila would’ve bought us matching shoes. Year of Nikes, Reeboks, the ban on donations....
