A fist fight.
A gun shot.
Pieces of people.
A sign in the window
of the 411 West Motel reads,
“I saw that.”
The glass is cracked
like the heads of homicide detectives.
I walk through it
stepping over the bodies of those
who sleep through it.
The roadkill tracks
desert vultures with forks and knives
cleaning their plates under the overpass.
We share the road
they share the dead
We share our stories.
I want to dance tonight
but there’s no music,
no muscle,
no moon.
Just dinner,
and a dumpster fire for two,
but I’ll walk with you.
~
Poem by Ryan Anarchy
Artwork: “Trash Fire III” by Vonn Sumner
This poem was inspired by the City of Reno.
RYAN ANARCHY 