Jim Trainer

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In Kevin P.O'Brien, Poetry on April 30, 2014 at 3:34 pm

Long eyelashes fall out of my skull. Sometimes they make sounds like branches or arms falling from a tree. I am King of Wishes. A pile in reserve. An arsenal for a really bad day. A wonder of mammoth proportions. Sometimes they get stuck in my eye. They scrape at the glass like hungry children. A mother’s burning finger pulls and one is torn free, placed on the altar, wished upon, and sent sailing into the oblivious wind. My wishes are scattered in parking lots, train stations, bars, sunny beaches, on board ships, on bathroom tiles, in ashtrays, and on women’s skin.

by Kevin P.O’Brien
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