John Grey

  • At the Window

    by John Grey Persistent rain,I open the curtains,dunk my facein the streetlight’s perforated glow. This is the wayto infiltrate the outside,with my nose against glass,a yellow-eyed ghost reflection, and half a nugget for a chin. From without,I must look likesome crazed nighthawk,in indeterminate pajamas, and three gold bars for a face. I do nothing to Continue reading