Poetry at Sangam



CAPSIZE (RETRO-FITTED) by Tyrone Williams

Better the baggage I know, sighs a blind Narcissus, panicking as he feels a sudden breeze, as he “smells” the movement of the waters, wavering, as he “knows” his image is now blurring, just another running of shape and color, a black mayor of a black city, he waves one arm like a wand over the waters while the other, hand on a swivel, moves back and forth like a sprinkler attached to a hose attached to the ocean….this never-to-be-king-or-queen-jack-in-the-limo-of-all-trades…