False Prophet
His reign comes to power,
when he parts from a duo.
He’s seen as handsome,
in the shelter of eaves,
shriveled in the nooks.
His lonesome patron,
working in a gallery
adheres to bold lies
in a forest of logic.
In the passage,
turnstiles click
with a thin kiss
from detentions.
He wears his best shirts
plastered with bluebirds
prizes from the auction.
He’s sure to adore them.
Violet Contact
It seems at Dawn
they are bringing
jars of grenadine.
They are finding
frightened sources
ensuring the fair trade
of a downtown widow.
I might dine
on old bones
while I sleep.
Old bones arranged
by a similar gesture.
I’ll be just as fat
as bank teller lies.
These exact words
come from inmates
as well as sweathogs.
Two bits buys the scenes
before a captive audience. Next to suburbs,
of a shining hut
belief says goodbye
Bio: Michael Igoe, neurodiverse city boy, Chicago now Boston, recovery staff at Boston University Center For Psych Rehab. Many works appear in journals online and print. Recent: Spare Change News(Cambridge MA), thebluenib.com, minerallit.com. Avalanches In Poetry Anthology@amazon.com. National Library Of Poetry Editor’s Choice For 1997. Twitter: MichaelIgoe5. poetryinmotion416254859.wordpress.com. Urban Realism, Surrealism. I like the Night.
Fevers of the Mind 
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