Things break.
The dawn, slings and arrows etc.
There is a cure for every cataclysm
and you’ll find a way to divide your joy by zero.
So that’s where you begin.
With nothing.
From there you’re bound to obsess
about the sublime black tights that got away.
In your own thriller you’ll pose
with a pistol in your hand,
the other hand full of cash
a banshee on your back
shards of glass in your hair.
Travel back at the speed of light
save Faye Dunaway from that hail of bullets
and finish the sentence you left hanging way back when.
She’ll still be leaning out the window above you
sneering and jeering
but before she douses you with dish water
just walk away
this time you’ll be red-shifted
a full load of life in your tank
and you’ll know that things break.
Promises etc.

Rick Adang was born in Buffalo, New York and graduated from Indiana University with a BA in English and a Creative Writing Honors thesis. He taught English as a foreign language for many years and is living in Estonia. He has had poems published in many literary magazines, most recently  Willawaw Journal, Eclectica, Avalon Literary Journal and Hamilton Stone Review.