Green Linden Press

In a Public Place                                                                                                  —J.R. Solonche


i
The flag flutters.
The white and pink petals fall.
One breeze is enough.

ii
Piped into the men’s room,
a Beethoven string quartet.
I wish I were constipated.

iii
On another bench,
a man reads a book of poetry.
Someday I want to write

a book of poetry
that cannot be read in public.
It will be illegal.

iv
The flowering plant is doing its job:
being publicly private,
being privately public.

v
The material dematerializes.
One deity dies.
Another is born.

vi
Look! The moon is made of money.
Let us spend it on happiness.
It will be sold out soon.