The river is heavy with phosphorus and scum.
It causes liver damage if ingested.
I don’t know exactly whose runoff it is, but so long
as they’re taking press photos with prize-winning
children and donating sizeable
sums to the ballet, I take no issue. River’s yours.
Once I saw a guy struggling to talk his way out
of some base thing he’d done, and his underwhelmed
companion said to him FLOWERS
WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU? Now I say it
all the time. The councilman announces he’s sorry
for taking advantage of the district’s trust,
or the paper issues the mother
of all retractions, and I’m right there at the window,
readying myself for the knock and the spray
of larkspur and tea rose. You shouldn’t have.