Two Poems | by Colin James

Family dignitaries arrive quietly for a feeding.
The mother who cooks her Sunday roast slowly
and is fundamentally fearless,
disapproves of the backward baseball caps
so plan your own arguments.
Forever reactionary in retrospect,
with affiliates and favorites 
of this excessive need to be. 






Entering an advertising free area,
our body temperatures noticeably drop.
I quickly plug my laptop
into the car’s cigarette lighter.
You bathe in the screen’s glow
while warming the cathartic artery
of my neck and shoulders.
It is only a few more kilometers
to the franchised Harlot’s Plateau.
We could take refreshment there
and reassess our uniforms.
You are more than deserving of another stripe
adding to your serpentine octopus charms.




Colin James has a chapbook of poems, A Thoroughness Not Deprived Of Absurdity. He lives in Massachusetts.



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