A Poem By Collin James

​FAT GUTS

                      Having grown up on
                      poorly dubbed foreign film,
                      the young woman screamed “Eh!”
                      instead of “Help!” while
                      being attacked by a pack
                      of feral city dogs.
                      Had we heard the latter plea,
                      my confused friends and I
                      may have been able to help.
                      Bundling her into a shopping cart
                      pushing it down a long hill through
                      a chaotic traffic intersection
                      delaying some postmodernism.

Colin James has a chapbook of poems, A Thoroughness Not Deprived Of Absurdity, from Pski’s Porch Publishing. He lives in Massachusetts. 

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