by Steven Ray Smith
There were two.
One started poor.
The other became.
Even in this, degrees.
One had experience.
The other, a name.
And though sympatric —
poor, seemingly the same —
they were scantly on par.
They were sturgeons.
The first, antediluvian.
The second, donor of caviar.
Steven Ray Smith’s poems have appeared in The Kenyon Review, Puerto del Sol, grain, Gravel, Skidrow Penthouse, Newtown Literary, The Lindenwood Review, The Conium Review, The Cape Rock, Big Muddy, The Broken Plate, Bayou, Common Ground Review, Slant, and others. He is president of a culinary school and lives in Austin with his wife and children.
Hawaii Pacific Review 