Superwhite and Other Poems


First, there was a fish. And then
there was the consciousness of robots.
What came between
seemed durable enough: history
with no shadow in its mouth, the trees
a medium gorgeous,
and the bodies of shepherd friends
spaced out like picnics
beneath the adage of the sun.

Want to read the rest?
Please login.
New to Narrative? sign up.
It's easy and free.