by Zack Rogow
We outlive them, our shirts. Too easily they get
snagged by chain link fences,
or pockmarked by sauces
twirled with golden oils. Continue reading
by Zack Rogow
We outlive them, our shirts. Too easily they get
snagged by chain link fences,
or pockmarked by sauces
twirled with golden oils. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry