NEW POETRY

(image c/o briefly)

The looming curve of the water towers,
all hip pose and body scold,
guards the swampy no-man’s land
between concierge and drum thump,
mealie meal and silver spoon forgetfulness.

Up in town, jagged bottle glass
is concreted along the tops of walls.
Down in the townships, doors are left open
to the night breeze and come what will.

Awake in Soweto in the tiny hours,
the wind brings in the chant
of mendicants huddled outside the shebeen,
beyond that – hyena, zebra, open space.

For now, it’s best to listen.
Sound is the burglar’s bible
tuned tonight to the book of wonder
and the distant sleepless ocean
named for where they thought they were.

Edward Johnson is a legal aid attorney from Portland, Oregon who has spent the past 30 years representing people living on and over the edge of homelessness. He is currently living fulltime in a log cabin in the North Cascades working on poems, old and new.  He has work recently out or forthcoming from Eclectica Magazine, Beatnik Cowboy, Indefinite Space, Main Street Rag, Ginosko Literary Journal, Packingtown Review, The Dissident Voice, Evergreen Review, Whisk(e)y Tit Journal, Abraxas Review, Dog Throat Journal and other outlets.