Guarded
You can't always tell where the future lies. We’re in streets paved by alibis. With a witless grace you come to realize, a future will reflect sharp recall of past. In chained trace, among buildings of glass and steel, eagerly expecting a howling eureka. The sound sustains in the current light. In growing gaunt, cheekbones break, the hairline silvers. Kowtowing at baseline claiming a performance defiant at an end of day. But there’s an urge to run watching what’s awkward. And then you’ll run with a hum electric Keeping in mind, you can't sidestep Dispatch From St. Louis All of a sudden, it dawned on me, to break the silence. Here’s where rarely we endure a freeze. Ice is going to melt, on your zany photo. The one you taped up, on back of your stove. It’s not allowed here, even if it’s piecemeal. Commodes furnished, with their steel mirror. My eyes grew narrow from high beam lights. After I took to watching the Mississippi shimmer. A Super Deluxe Poetry Showcase for Michael Igoe (early-mid 2021) 2 poems from Michael Igoe – September 2022 Last Frontier by Michael Igoe (Prose stories) Last Frontier
Fevers of the Mind 