Code
.
Fearless parking lots the
headlights again, reflected in
Big Gulps and soiled paper.
Endless smoke, a single blinking light..
The future comes in
loosely tied shoes. There are
probably some other intentions
out on the edge
of the park, always helicopters
swirling in code. Trees here
are accustomed to bowing.
.
Gregory McGreevy lives and writes poetry in Baltimore, Maryland. His work has previously been featured in West Trade Review, The Finger Literary Journal, and The Northern Virginia Review, among others.
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