The bus from Montreal is late


I turn my pockets inside out in the rain

dreaming of shotguns in the sky


My rotting heart sings in the downpour

Alice’s big white rabbit comes on by


and gives me a gram of magic mushrooms

to rescue me from your world.


“The rotting of a heart…”

Charles Bukowski, from “Practice”

in The Roominghouse Madrigals.


Copyright © 2017 by Henry Doyle

Published in Geist magazine

Number 104

Spring 2017


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