FRANK G KARIORIS —
THERE ARE ONLY 3,000 BRONCOS LEFT IN THE WILD
The established homeless & the newly rich walk
while others park underground, & while trains are
nearly empty these days they ready steady as always.
There are only 3,000 broncos left in the wild.
There’s a line outside the African grocery store & the
seamstresses at New World Watch in Little Viet Nam
are sat at small tables sewing bright colored face masks.
Lush fields of grass stopped growing along the banks
A man is huddled in a backalley caged storage space
with his blankets & folding cart feet from the newly
completed & empty faux brick condos - 2 bed 2 bath .
of the Ohio river just less than a hundred years ago.
Someone has scribbled “adjust” in chalk on the grocery
store next to the words “I’m sorry” & further “news”;
looking again the adjust now reads “AmeRican”.
CONNECTION VIA THE STOMACH
And so
I ate cake for breakfast.
My family far away
my uncle dying
of a terrible bowel disease
I couldn’t pronounce
the only thing I could
do was to eat
the cake.
Frank G. Karioris (he/they/him/them) is a writer and educator based in Pittsburgh whose writing addresses issues of friendship, masculinity, and gender. Their work has appeared or is forthcoming in Pittsburgh Poetry Journal, Collective Unrest, Maudlin House, Sooth Swarm Journal, and Crêpe & Penn amongst others. They are a regular contributor to Headline Poetry & Press.
Twitter: @FrankGKarioris