RWB Workshop Poem of the Week – January 16

Poems of the Week 01/16/2018

One More for Andy

Arthur Russell

The roof feels bad for not having stopped him,
but it was helpless tarpaper, parapets with
terracotta capstones where the kids sit
to gaze at Gravesend Bay,
one plastic lawn chair short of a quorum,
and the salsa music from the 6th floor windows,

and the smell of stew, which can heal most anything,
came up the stairs past the door that had promised
an alarm would sound.

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