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